Lost Memories
by ncsupnatfan
Summary: Can Dean get back what he has lost? Alone, he is befriended by a couple that saved his life. Dean has to find his way back while Sam and Bobby are searching frantically for him. Thank you Kaneswolf for prompt. Drama, Suspense.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello my dear readers. This is a short story from a prompt a reader gave me. Thank you Kaneswolf for the idea. I have changed it slightly and expanded the idea. I hope you like it. Thank you for coming alone on this journey with me. I do like to know your thoughts and reviews would be great. NC**

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**Disclaimer: Do not own SPN and this is my own creation. All errors are my own. **

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**Chapter 1**

What had started out as a light rain was turning into a heavy downpour, puddling on the road and making it difficult to see in the darkness. The secondary road Dean was traveling on didn't have much traffic which was good since the conditions were getting hazardous. He was on his way back from a parts run, delivering and pickup, and had decided to push on through instead of stopping for the night like he told his brother. Dean swore under his breath as the car hydroplaned, but he got it back under control.

He was driving through an unpopulated area that had numerous curves and switchback but would cut his driving time down by a couple of hours. He unclenched the steering wheel when he saw he was almost out of the worse of it, when suddenly out of nowhere a deer bolted across the road in his path.

Dean slammed on the brakes and felt the car start to spin and tried to adjust by turning into the spin. He hit a part of the road with several inches of water standing on it and it was like the car had a mind of its own. Before he could stop it, the car skidded off the road and went down an embankment rolling over once. It finally came to a stop when it slammed sideways into a tree. Dean tried to brace himself but was knocked unconscious when his head collided with the side window. His body bounced around like a rag doll, hitting the steering wheel and side door again until it finally came to rest sideway against a tree. The passenger side tires continued to spin slowly as the engine coughed and sputtered before finally dying with one final rattle. The only working headlight shone at an odd angle into the forest as the rain continued to fall for several more hours.

It was completely silent surrounding the wrecked car, except for the pelting of the rain as it bounced off the surface of the car. The crash had silenced all the night creatures until they saw it was not a threat and one by one their voices filled the night again. The limp body of the driver lay against the broken side window as night finally gave way to light. He moved a finger and groaned in pain when he tried to adjust his awkward position. He couldn't force his eyelids to open as he rolled his head slightly but stopped when the pain became too much. He tried to pull in a breath but had to stop partway when his sides burned and stopped his intake of air.

Dean raised a shaky hand to his face and felt something dried on it before trying to wipe his eyes so he could open them. It took all his energy to force his eyes open enough to see he was lying sideways in the car that was tilted up on its side. He drew in several slow, partial, breaths before trying to push himself out from under the steering wheel of the car. He had to unlace his boot and take his foot out since it was pinned by crunched metal. His ankle throbbed but he didn't think it was broken.

It took everything he had to work his way to the passenger door and pull himself out of the shattered window and let his body drop to the ground beside the car. He cried out as his body hit, making all his injuries scream in agony that sent streaks of pain radiating up and down it. Dean could feel the wetness of the ground under him but couldn't move from where he lay. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face as he laid still catching his breath.

It was nearly thirty minutes before he was finally able to roll to his stomach and make an effort to get to his feet. Everything was spinning and his vision was blurred, but he pushed from the car and took a few tottering steps toward the incline that the car had rolled down. Each step was sending waves of pain throughout his body and before he could take another step, he fell to his hands and knees and threw up. Once the dry heaves had stopped, he fell to the side panting hard, but knew he had to keep moving. Not trusting walking, Dean began to crawl upward, clutching vines and shrubs to help pull him forward. He dug his toes into the damp earth to push himself alone and combat crawled up the hill. It was a slow process since he had to pause every fifteen feet to catch his breath and rest.

Rocks and twigs dug into his body and clawed at his clothes, trying to hold him back. His fingers dug into the mud on the slope and he kept lifting his face to look upward to see how much farther he had to go. Sweat was beading on his forehead and running down his face and neck. He stopped to wipe the sweat from his burning eyes and rest for a moment before he could continue. He didn't know how long he inched his way up the slope until finally his fingers found the rim and he pulled himself up and over the edge to lay there panting hard before passing out again.

Consciousness came back slowly and when he was awake, Dean carefully pushed up from the ground to stand on wobbly, unsteady legs. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other as he limped down the road. He shuffled down the blacktop not even feeling the sharp rocks that he stepped on with his socked foot. He was slightly bent over and could barely keep his balance, but all he knew was he needed to keep moving to find help.

He didn't know how long he had been walking but the sun was almost gone, and the night was claiming the land. He staggered back and forth until he couldn't do it anymore and dropped to his knees before crumbling to the side of the road unconscious. The blackness was a blessing and he let it carry him away to Neverland.

**spn**

"I swear Jasper you and your short cuts," Bessie complained as her husband drove their car down the country road toward the city.

"Don't worry dear, we'll be there in no time and this is so much prettier than the interstate," Jasper told her. He rounded a curve and slowed when he saw something on the side of the road just ahead. "What's that honey?"

"My goodness Jasp, that's someone hurt," she said leaning forward in her seat.

"I'll pull over."

Jasper slowed and pulled over below the body to stop. They got out and went back to check if the person was alive. Jasper knelt by the body and slowly turned the young man to his back. He saw the blood coating his face and the dirt, bloody and torn clothing. He pressed two fingers to his neck and felt for a pulse. It was weak and erratic and his breathing was labored.

"We need to get him to the hospital," Jasper told Bessie.

"The poor child," she cried out. "I'll move the car back here and help you get him in the backseat." Bessie went back to their car and got in to back the car beside the body. She got out and helped Jasper lift the young man onto the backseat moving him over until the door could be closed. Bessie got in the back and pulled the young man's upper body into her lap.

"What do you think happened to him?" she asked.

"I don't know, maybe an accident. Good thing we were going to the hospital anyway," Jasper said. He got in the driver's seat and started the car again to head for the hospital.

Jasper needed knee surgery and they were going to a VA medical center three hundred miles from their farmstead to have the procedure done. Jasper was retired from the Air Force and worked a farm selling fresh produce and honey to local businesses nearby. He had met Bessie in high school, and they dated through college and were married when they graduated. He went into the Air Force as an officer and served twenty years, half overseas and the remaining in the states. When he was discharged, they found a nice working farm for sell and bought it. They had been working the farm for nearly twenty-five years. He had been married to Bessie for forty-five years this year and their marriage was still going strong. It was love at first sight when they had first met, and they knew they were soul mates.

It was over an hour later that Jasper pulled into the emergency entrance at the hospital and stopped. Jasper got out and went inside to get help for the young man. He didn't know if he was military or not, but they couldn't turn him away.

Nurses and orderlies ran out with a gurney and got the young man from the backseat and rushed him inside. Bessie moved the car to the visitor's parking lot and met Jasper to sign in for admittance. He left his name at the emergency room to contact him about the young man. They felt a connection to him and wanted to keep check on him.

Jasper was admitted and was scheduled for knee surgery that afternoon. Bessie was staying the first night with him and if he did okay, she planned on getting a motel room to stay during the night until he was released. Jasper talked to several doctors and wrangled it where he would share a room with the young man, they had brought in. He was still unconscious and had no ID on him, so he was labeled a John Doe for their records.

Jasper's surgery went well, and he was brought to a semi-private room where his wife was waiting on him. The second bed had the young stranger in it resting peacefully. He still had not come to, but they had been told he had no serious injuries, but couldn't be told any more since they were not related.

Since John didn't have anyone, Bessie took him under her wing and made sure he was comfortable and had what he needed. She could easily look after Jasper and John with no problem. He also reminded her of their son whom they lost when he was serving as a Marine overseas. He was around this young man's age when they were notified of his death.

Jasper was brought up from recovery and Bessie stepped out so they could get him settled in the room. She went back in once the nurse said she could and took a seat between the beds. Jasper was resting and wasn't in any pain so far and she kept an eye on John, covering him with another light blanket. She studied his bruised and swollen face thinking he would be handsome once his injuries healed. They were monitoring him since he had not woken up yet. He had a neck brace on, and his head was wrapped with gauze because of the gash and he had random bandages on his body.

Nurses came in hourly during the night to check both patients while Bessie kept her vigil by their beds. She had a light on and was crocheting an afghan. She gave Jasper ice chips and sips of water when he came around and wiped John's face with a damp cloth and talked to him when seemed restless. He seemed to calm down at the sound of her soft voice.

When morning came, Jasper roused himself and ate the soft diet breakfast he was brought. Bessie left to get a motel room and get some rest planning on coming back that afternoon to sit with them.

Jasper had the television on and was watching a talk show when he heard movement in the bed across from him. He heard John moan and cry out softly.

"Hey, hey, it's okay son," Jasper called to him. He hit the nurse's button to get someone in there to help him.

A nurse hurried in and over to John's bed to calm him. "Hello young man," she cooed to him, stopping John from thrashing his arms. "It's good to see you awake, can you tell me your name?" she asked him.

The young man stilled with the nurse's touch and gentle words. He opened his blurry eyes and tried to focus on her but couldn't concentrate with the pounding in his head. He tried to turn his head but found his neck restrained and started to fight it.

"John, you have a neck brace on. Don't fight it. The doctor will be here shortly to check on you. Hopefully we can change it to a soft brace if he agrees. Do you understand?"

"Hello young man, it's good to see you're awake," a portly man in scrubs said when he walked in. "You had us worried there for a while. I am Dr. Houston, I admitted you when you were brought in." He moved to the bedside and took a stethoscope from around his neck to check his heart and breathing. He used a light to check his pupil reaction finding it good. "Do you know where you are?"

"Hosp'il," he said in a raspy, hoarse voice.

"Are you dizzy, lightheaded, feel sick?"

"Li'le."

"Here, let's get you some water, nurse if you would please," Dr. Houston said.

The nurse got a cup from the stand beside the bed and held the straw to the young man's lips so he could sip the water. She let him take a few sips before taking it away not wanting him to drink too much and get sick.

"Can you tell me your name?" Dr. Houston asked as he flipped through the chart.

The young man looked to the doctor with a frown and look of confusion that changed to fear. He wet his lips with his tongue and let them part for a moment like he was going to say something but didn't. It was like he had been sucker punched and he could barely breath.

"Sir, do you know your name?" the doctor asked again trying to be encouraging and gentle. "Do you know what happened to you? How you ended up on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere?"

"No, I don't," the young man whispered as his hands clenched into fists. He was fighting to breath as panic locked his mind down and crippled him.

"That's okay young man, you had a nasty head injury and a concussion, so it is not unusual to have memory loss. Just take it easy and breath slowly. I don't need you having a panic attack on me. It'll be fine. You will probably have a headache on and off for a week or so, but we didn't find any serious injuries from the tests we ran when you came in. We didn't find and brain injury, so I say you are very lucky. You've got whiplash, bruising, scrapes, bruised ribs, sprained ankle and gash on the side of his head that was stitched. We are thinking you were in a car accident but are not sure. Your roommate, Mr. Hopper, and his wife found you on the side of the road and brought you to the emergency room. You had no ID on you, so you have been given the name John Doe for now. If you need anything for the headache, I'll leave orders for nurses to administer medication. Just tell them you need something."

"Yes, I think I need something for pain," he told the doctor. He reached for the water and sipped some more letting it sooth his sore throat and quench his thirst. "How long before I start remembering?"

"Nurse if you'll get him pain meds," Dr. Houston told her. "I can't say; a day, few days, a week, but they should start coming back as you heal. The brain is a complex organ and will fix itself in its own time. You might not get them all back, but I would say most will come in time." Dr. Houston assured him. "Here we are, this should help with your pain." The doctor stepped aside so the nurse could give him a shot for pain. "I have oral medication for you from now on and from the results of the test we can get rid of this neck brace and get you into something a little more comfortable. Since you're awake I'll have the catheter and IV removed so you can start moving around some. Just be sure you're not dizzy or lightheaded when you do. If you keep improving, you should be out of here in a few days. I will be back in the morning when I do rounds to check on you. Have a good day John."

The young man nodded his thanks as he puzzled over why the name John seemed familiar, but he didn't think it was his name. He looked across the room to see an older man reclining in the bed with his knee bandaged and resting on a pillow.

"Hello young man," Jasper said in a friendly voice. "You look much better than when we found you."

"Guess I need to thank you for saving me?" John asked. "Most people would have probably passed me by."

"It was the right thing to do. My Bessie and I were coming to the hospital when we found you on the side of the road unconscious. I would not have been able to sleep at night if I didn't stop to help."

They looked toward the door when it opened and an older woman with white hair and a kind, gentle face walked in carrying a bag. She looked to the bed to see the young man sitting up and looking at her.

"Well, hello young man. It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" she asked moving between the beds. She leaned over to kiss her husband and then turned back to John. "You had us worried there."

"John, this is my lovely wife Bessie," Jasper introduced them.

"Nice to meet you ma'am," John replied already liking this older woman.

"Goodness sakes call me Bessie. We're not formal around here. How's the knee doing today honey?"

"Better. They got me up for a short walk around the room earlier and said I can start getting up to walk around as long as I have someone with me."

"That's good to hear, maybe we'll take a stroll in a bit."

"Okay John let's get this IV and catheter out and I'll see if I can get you something to eat," a nurse said. She closed the curtain around the bed so she could have some privacy. "I have a soft collar for you to so we can take this hard plastic one off." She undid the Velcro on the neck brace and removed it gently rubbing his neck making John sigh with relief. She replaced it with a soft neck collar. "This should help with neck pain and your headache. The doctor wants you to wear it for a few days and after that whenever you feel the need."

"That's much better," John told her as he let his head relax into the soft collar. It did seem to stabilize his head and relieve some of the pressure on his neck making the pain not so bad.

"He's lost his memory," Jasper whispered to Bessie as he listened to them talk behind the curtain. He didn't mean to ease drop but he had an interest in the young man they called John. "Can't even remember his own name. He's a John Doe for now."

"Oh, how awful for him. Is there anything we can do?" she said in a soft, caring voice. "I feel sorry for the boy being here with no one to call. I wonder if there's someone out there looking for him?"

"Maybe, let me talk to him and feel him out," Jasper replied. "I might have a plan that will benefit both of us."

"I brought you some yogurt and biscuits and jam. I know they won't be as good as mine, but you can make do."

"Why don't you see if John might like the yogurt when the nurse is done? He's not ate in I don't know when."

"Good idea, or I can go get him something from the cafeteria."

"If you need anything let me know," the nurse told John as she pulled the curtain back out of the way and stepped from the room.

Bessie waited for the nurse to leave and moved to John's bed with a spoon and yogurt. "Here John, why don't you eat this, and I'll be happy to go down to the cafeteria to get you something if you like."

"Thank you but I can't take your husband's food," John said.

"Nonsense son, you're welcome to it. And Bessie brought biscuits and jam if you feel like eating more," Jasper insisted. "Would you like me to find something else to watch on the television?"

"No that is fine," John told him. He accepted the yogurt and opened it, spooning some into his mouth. He leaned his head back as his mind swirled and seemed fractured. He couldn't concentrate or his head pounded harder and just tried to relax. He kept asking the question over and over in his head. _'What is my name?'_ but it was one he could not answer. No name seemed right to him, but John at least didn't seem foreign. He listened to Jasper and Bessie talking quietly so not to disturb him and smiled at the love he could see between them. They seemed like a happy couple. He wondered if there was someone out there waiting for him to come home that loved him like that.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who decided to come on the journey with me. Your support is appreciated. Memories will slowly start coming back but they will be confusing. This will not be a long story, but I hope you think it is worth the read. I do like to know your thoughts; reviews do make my day. NC**

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**Chapter 2**

John looked toward the door that was opening and a nurse came in. "Here you go John. I had food service bring up some broth, crackers, Jell-O, apple sauce and tea. Hopefully this will hold you over until dinner is served tonight. I brought a menu that you can choose items from for dinner and your meals tomorrow. The doctor wants to start you on a soft food diet to start to be sure you can tolerate food. If you will get this to me soon, I can send it downstairs so they can have it for the next meal."

"Thanks," John told her feeling disinterested in the whole process. He was still out of sorts with all that was going on and there was an unsettling fear building in the back of his mind, what if he didn't get his memories back? He picked up the paper and looked for a pen on the stand beside his bed.

"Here you go honey," Bessie told him handing him a pen. "I'll be happy to take it out to the nurse's station for you when you are done."

"Thanks," John replied giving her a small smile which she returned. He randomly checked off the boxes for food and handed the paper to her without much thought. He looked at the food and knew he needed to eat to get better. He wanted out of the hospital as soon as he could leave but had no idea what he was going to do. He had no name, no money, no memories, and nowhere to go.

He didn't even know if he had any clothes to wear when he was released. The more he thought about his situation, he worse his head hurt. He made himself relax and drink most of his meal as he absently looked at the television. Once he was finished with his food, he could feel his body get heavy from stress, exhaustion, injury and medication. He let his eyes close and drifted to sleep.

"Is he asleep?" Jasper asked Bessie when he saw John get still and his eyes close as his breathing evened out.

"Yes, poor child, I can't imagine how I'd feel if I couldn't remember who I was, not even my name," she replied looking to the young man with compassion.

"What do you think of this idea Bess," Jasper asked in a quiet voice so he wouldn't disturb John. "Since he has no place to go right now, why don't we ask him to come stay with us? We can clean up the studio at the barn and when he's able he can help around the farm. I'm not going to be of much use for a while until my knee heals. He can earn some money, have a roof over his head and three meals a day. He would be doing us a service and our farm would give him a place that's quiet and calm to heal himself. And maybe by then he will remember who he is."

"I was going to suggest the same thing. I can't see him going out there with no idea of who he is or where would he go. I don't think he has anything except the clothes he was wearing when we found him. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if we didn't try to help him. It's the right thing to do."

"I knew you would agree with me. When he wakes up, I'll ask him and see if he would like to come home with us."

"I have a couple of boxes of clothes that were Trace's that might fit him. From the looks of the ones he had on when we found him, I don't think they are salvageable. It wouldn't hurt him to have some homecooked meals either. He does look a little skinny."

"I think your home cooking will win him over," Jasper chuckled. "There's not a better cook around the area."

"You're just prejudice dear because you love me."

"But it's true sweetheart."

"Do you want to get up and walk the circle?"

"Yes, the sooner I'm mobile, the sooner I can get out of here. I'll talk with the doc and see if we can maybe be released at the same time. That way our plan will work out perfect."

Bessie helped Jasper up and slipped on slippers before moving a walker to where he could use it. They left the room and walked down the hall and around the circle taking it slow and easy. They made it back to the room as John was waking up. Bessie saw him trying to get up and went to help.

"I'm thinking you need to use the bathroom," she told him. "Here, lean on me so you don't fall. Don't need you injuring yourself."

John had gotten to the edge of the bed and the room started to tilt almost making him tumble from the bed. He sat there a moment until he wasn't seeing double. Jasper and Bessie were gone, and he figured they might be walking. He was going to do that as soon as he used the bathroom. The couple came back in and Bessie offered her help once Jasper was settled back in bed. John thought she was a caring, warm person and you didn't see many of those anymore, not in his line of work. He paused, wondering why he thought that since he had no idea what his line of work entailed.

"Thanks, guess I better accept the help so I don't face plant," John said allowing her to take his arm and help him stand.

"That would be a good idea. Just hold onto my arm dear, it's not far."

John let the older woman help him to the bathroom and relieved himself. He stepped to the sink and braced himself with his hands, looking down, almost afraid to raise his eyes. He slowly let his eyes move upward and stared into the face of a stranger. One side of his face was bruised and swollen, and he had gauze wrapped around his head like a turban making his short hair stick out in places.

He examined his face as he waited for some kind of memory to come back. Who was he? He didn't think his name was John, but there was something about it that did seem familiar. Did he have a wife out there worrying about him? Did he have family? What did he do in life? How did he end up on the side of the road injured?

It seemed the more he tried to force it, the louder the jack hammer pounded in his head. He could sense things, but they were just out of his reach and he couldn't bring them to the forefront of his mind. Deciding this wasn't helping, he washed his face and hands before moving to the door to step out. "I was going to try walking."

"That's good child but let me get another gown. Really don't need to give everyone a peep show," Bessie laughed softly pulling his gown together in back, so his bottom was showing.

"Shit," John hissed as his face reddened when he realized what she was talking about and clutched the gown tightly together. "Sorry, didn't mean to cuss," he mumbled.

"It's okay John, you can't embarrass Bessie that easily," he chuckled. "She's lived around military people and has heard worse."

Bessie came back in with another gown and helped John slip it on. She insisted on going with him on his walk just in case he got dizzy. He had no slippers, only the socks that had been put on him sometime while he was unconscious. She walked slow and let him hold onto her arm. They made the circle and she suggested he rest and not overdo it the first time he was on his feet. He agreed since he was already feeling tired and weak. Bessie helped him back to his bed and got him tucked in before taking her seat between them. She picked up her crocket and began to work on it as they watched the television.

An orderly brought in their dinners and sat them on the portable tables for them. Bessie made sure they got enough to eat and got ready to leave. She was going back to the motel once they ate to get something to eat for herself and some rest. They doctor said Jasper would be in the hospital for a couple of more days before being discharged. Jasper was going to talk to John about coming home with them and hoped he would be discharged around the same time.

"John can I talk to you?" Jasper asked once they had finished eating and Bessie had left for the motel. The hospital was quieting down now as night fell.

"Sure," John replied raising his bed to where it was comfortable and looked in his direction.

"Son, being in the same room with you, I know your situation and well, Bessie and I was wondering if you'd like to come home with us? We own a small farm about three hundred miles from here. We've got a small two room space attached to the barn, a studio you could call it, you can stay there to have some privacy. It's nothing fancy, but it's clean and you'd have a roof over your head. It has a bathroom and heat pump. We fixed it up for hired help to stay in when I was farming more of the land and needed help with harvesting. I've cut back over the years so usually Bessie and me can handle it now. There's a small kitchen out there for you to use but you can eat with us. Bessie's one of the best cooks I know. Wait until you taste her fried chicken, biscuits, mac and cheese and she makes the best cakes and pies in the county. She won a bunch blue ribbons over the years at the county fair for her jams and desserts."

"Did you say pies?" John asked as he looked at the stranger who had saved his life and wasn't sure why that caught his attention. He guessed whoever he was, he liked pies.

"When you're better, I'll pay you to help out around the place. Doc wants me to take care of my knee and not do too much for a while. I grow fruits and vegetables and sell it to businesses in the neighboring towns. It's more for something to do than about the money. I've always liked to keep busy and we donate any extra to the church for their food kitchen. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. You'll have a safe, quiet place there while you regain your memories."

"Why would you do this? You don't know anything about me; hell, I don't know anything about myself. I could be a bad person," John questioned.

"I don't believe that, no, you're not bad. I'm a good judge of people and I know that you're not that. I see something good in you. Like the doctor said, your memories should start coming back but right now you have nowhere to go. I couldn't live with myself to know you were one the streets, homeless because you don't know who you are. It wouldn't be right to not help. I've already talked it over with Bessie and she's all for it. So, what do you say?

John pinched his lips together as he thought over what Jasper was offering him. If he left the hospital now, he had no idea where he would go or what he would do. Like he said, he would literally be homeless with no memories of who he was.

"Alright, I'll come and thank you. You are a kind person, and I should be able to start helping on the farm by the time I'm released. That's the only way I can repay your generosity."

"I am glad to hear this. We'll talk with the doctor and see if we'll be released at the same time and what follow-up he might want you to have. We have a family doctor back home we go to for minor things but if it's something big I come to the VA and use my benefits."

"You were in the service?"

"Yep, Air Force, retired from it after twenty-five years."

"How long have you and your wife been married?"

"Going on forty-five years now. She was my high school sweetheart and we've been together ever since. Got married out of college and that's when I enlisted."

"Do you have any kids?"

"We had a son; he was about your age when he was killed overseas. He followed in my footsteps and joined up but went with the Marines. We lost him…It's going on ten years now." Jasper got a faraway look in his eyes as the memories of his son played through his mind. Even after all this time, the pain had lessened but would never go completely away.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I've lost both my parents too," John said and looked up in surprise that he remembered that.

"See the doctor said memories would start coming back. You just need to give yourself some time and not force them. Let them come on their own."

"But I still don't know their names or my own name." John couldn't keep the frustration or sadness from his voice as he looked away not wanting Jasper to see his tears. He could feel the dull ache starting again in his head and pressed the nurse call button to get some pain meds. John stayed quiet the rest of the evening as he tried to pull up memories in him mind. He was grateful to Jasper for offering to help him and he didn't feel so alone now. He finally drifted off to sleep with an image of a shiny, black, classic car in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I know you have asked about Sam and now we find out what's happening with him. Thank you for all taking the time to read it and I hope you are enjoying. Reviews do make my day. NC**

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**Chapter 3**

The house was quiet except for the usual creaks and groans of it settling as Sam rolled over in bed and looked toward the window. He could see drops of rain hitting the panes and running down like tears. The storm had gotten to them in the middle of the night and was still raining this morning. He stretched and looked to the other bed in the room seeing it had not been slept in. He wasn't sure where his brother was on his trip back from delivering and picking up parts. If Dean was smart, he'd have gotten a motel room for the night and let the storm pass.

Sam sighed as he threw back the covers and swung his legs off the bed. He sat on the side of the bed for a moment reaching for his cell to see if he had any messages from Dean. It wasn't too early to call, and he speed dialed his number waiting for it to ring. After a couple of rings, it went to voicemail and he waited for the beep before talking.

"Hey bro, just checking to see where you're at and when you'll get back to Bobby's. Give me a call," Sam said. He hung up the cell and went to his dresser for clean clothes. He was going to shower and see what Bobby was doing and decide on some breakfast.

Sam stripped down and started the water in the shower, letting it heat so he could adjust the temperature. He stepped under the hot spray and stood there hoping it would wash away some of the stress and grief from him. He knew they were going to have a hard battle ahead of them without their father. Dean especially felt the loss the worse. He wiped his eyes and grabbed his shampoo to wash his hair. Once he was done, he soaped down his body and wondered why Dean hadn't called him or Bobby to tell them what was going on. Sam knew the reason he offered to do the parts run for Bobby was to get away and have some time alone. They each grieved in their own way and it was harder for Dean. Their father had instilled in them to not show emotions that it made you weak. That was one thing Sam had a hard time doing. He wanted to show his emotions and didn't think it made him weak, it made him human.

Sam finished his shower and dried off before stepping from the shower. He slipped on briefs and a tee shirt before towel drying his long hair and running his fingers through it to get the tangles out. He strolled back to the bedroom for clean clothes noting he should probably do some laundry. He thought they both were getting low on clean clothes. After slipping on jeans and a button up shirt, Sam got his laundry basket from the closet and gathered up the two piles of dirty clothes to take downstairs. He'd get the laundry done and surprise Dean when he got back.

"Bobby you around?" Sam called looking toward the office and walking into the kitchen. He went on through to the laundry room to sort clothes and start a load. Once he had the washer going, he went back into the kitchen for coffee. He found a yogurt in the fridge that would do for breakfast and noted they needed to do a supply run.

Sam walked back into the living room as Bobby was coming in the front door. "Hey Bobby, still raining out there?"

"The worse of it had passed, but still messy. You heard from yer brother this morning?" Bobby asked.

"Nope, left him a message to call. You know him, he could have stopped for a beer and got friendly with a local woman. I figure he'll drag himself home eventually with some story to tell."

"Wanna help me with some research for a hunter? Thought if Dean wasn't back, we'd go into town for lunch and we're getting low on supplies."

"Yeah, I noticed and that sounds fine. Who's the hunter?" Sam asked following him into his office off the living room.

"Mackie. Good hunter; knows his stuff at least. Think yer Daddy hunted with him a few times."

"Sounds familiar." Sam dropped into a seat by the large desk and took the books Bobby handed him and began to look for information. He finished his yogurt and sipped on his coffee as he kept an ear out for a car engine that would mean Dean was home.

**spn**

Sam stepped from the diner and pulled his cell out again to check it and wondered if he should leave another message. They still had not heard from Dean and he was starting to worry.

"He's okay Sam, most likely he just got held up somewhere. He's probably waiting on us to get home with the beer," Bobby said trying to comfort the younger hunter. He knew how close the brothers were and how they would worry when they were apart.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's get the supply run done and get back. Maybe I'll even pick up a pie for him. That should put him in a good mood." Sam replaced his cell and got in the car, but he couldn't stop that little itch in the back of his mind that was telling him something was wrong. He didn't want to worry needlessly, but if Dean wasn't home waiting on them, he was going to trace his cell and see where he was.

"Sam? Are you hearing me?" Bobby asked when he didn't answer his question. He could see the far away look in his eyes and knew he still felt uneasy about his brother.

"Sorry Bobby, what did you say?" Sam asked pushing his fears down and focusing on the present.

"Do you want a rotisserie chicken for dinner tonight?"

"That's fine."

"We can do a couple of sides and rolls, easy meal."

"I'll get a pie for dessert. Dean would like that."

"How are you doing Sam? Neither of you boys have talked much about what happened to yer Daddy."

"I'm fine," Sam lied.

"And you think I'll believe that? You do know who you're talking to."

Sam flushed and hung his head knowing Bobby was right. He knew when he was lying, always had been able to tell, even when he was young.

"I know you might not want to talk about it son, but don't let it fester and eat away at you. If you feel the need, we'll talk."

"Thanks Bobby," Sam whispered trying to keep his emotions in check. He blinked away the tears that pooled in his eyes and focused on anything else. He pulled the list for groceries out of his pocket and went over it to see if he missed anything just to do something, anything, so he wouldn't think about it. The hardest part of it all was he didn't even get to say goodbye to him before it happened.

They pulled into the store parking lot and parked. Sam got out and headed for the front doors, walking faster than he needed. He grabbed a cart and started through the store grabbing items and not really looking at them. There was an urge that he needed to get home. He needed to find Dean waiting at the salvage yard wanting beer. His anxiety level was rising, and his stress was getting higher. His spider senses were starting to throw red flags and he couldn't ignore them.

"Slow down Sam," Bobby told him grapping the cart and stopping Sam from moving forward.

Sam faltered in his forward motion and looked at Bobby with a perplexed look on his face not understanding why he did that.

"Racing through the store is not going to make Dean get here any faster Sam. Are you even looking at what you are buying?" he asked nodding to the cart for Sam to look.

Sam took a deep breath and looked into the cart. He saw a bag of salad, three bags of carrots, two bunches of bananas, three bags of lemons, a head of cabbage, he didn't even like cabbage, and several other odd things. He bowed his head and tried to slow his racing mind.

"Sorry Bobby," he mumbled trying to pull himself back together. He had to think positive instead of going straight for the worse case scenario. He turned back to the produce section and put half of what he had thrown into the cart back and picked up the items he had missed on his list. He paid attention as they finished the shopping and headed for checkout.

Sam leaned forward in the passenger seat as Bobby turned into the salvage yard looking for the car Dean had taken on the parts run. Since the Impala still wasn't drivable, he had taken another of Bobby's old cars that was running. He slumped back when the car was not in sight and frowned as he caught his lower lip with his teeth. Dean should have been back by now even if he stopped last night or he should be close. He had tried calling again only to get voicemail and had decided to track Dean's cell to find him.

He got out of the car and went to the trunk to loop bag handles on his hands to take inside. Sam was getting anxious and he was feeling jittery with not knowing where his brother was. Sam helped Bobby put away the groceries, grabbed a water and got his laptop. He sat down at the kitchen table and booted it up. He drummed his fingers on the table waiting so he could get online and pull up the tracking program they used. After typing in Dean's cell number, Sam hit enter and waited as the program searched for the location. It processed for five minutes before coming back with zero results.

"What? This can't be right," Sam grunted and ran it again thinking something went wrong the first time. The same results came up and he swore under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked when he heard him.

"I can't trace Dean's cell."

"Maybe he forgot the charger to charge it."

"After the lecture he gave me when I let my die, I don't think so. He knows I'd rag him to no end. I'm telling you something has happened."

"Okay, well, we know he made the parts delivery and picked up the ones for the Impala."

"Right and he was going to start back."

"From the weather report, he was heading into the storm so he might have stopped somewhere to let that pass."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam agreed as his brain started working overtime. "Think Sheriff Mills would check the police reports to see if there's been any accidents between where Dean was and here?"

"I'm sure she will; I'll give her a call." Bobby stepped toward his office to make the call.

Sam pulled up a map to try and figure Dean's route back. He knew his brother and he didn't always take the most direct routes when he drove. There were several roads he could have taken. Sam grabbed a pad and started making notes so he could start his search of the roadways. He followed the lines noting the cities that it ran by and an idea came to him. Sam picked up his cell and dialed the Roadhouse. He listened to it ringing.

"Roadhouse," a female voice answered.

"Hey Ellen, Sam Winchester."

"Sam, what's going on?"

"Can I speak to Ash?"

"Of course, honey, let me get him."

He heard her lay the phone down and mumbled voices before a male voice answered.

"Sam my man, what's shaking?"

"Hey Ash, I need your help."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"I am going to email you some directions and need you to hack into hospital ER data bases along those roads and set up an algorithm to sort through the data in search of Dean."

"Why, is he missing?"

"Yeah, he didn't make it home from a parts run and I can't track his cell."

"Bummer dude. Sure, I'll see what I can do. Do you want me to check the morgues too?"

Sam swallowed hard and paled at that thought, but he needed to know. He cleared his throat so he could answer. "Yeah, Ash. That too and call me or Bobby if you find anything."

"I'm on it," Ash said.

Sam heard the call disconnect and hung up trying to figure out if there was something else he could do. He looked up when Bobby came back into the room.

"Talked to Sheriff Mills and she's putting out a Missing Person alert for Dean and my car."

"I called Ash at the Roadhouse, he's going to search hospital records for anyone matching Dean's description being seen in the ER or admitted. He also checking the morgues," Sam replied his voice going dull at the end. He couldn't believe Dean was dead. If he were, Sam was sure he'd feel it in some way. No, he was alive and had to keep thinking that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Morning light was shining through the curtained windows of the hospital room as John began to wake up. He shifted in his bed noticing that his body didn't hurt quiet as bad as before. His head still felt woozy and the ache had never fully gone away, but he was much better. He looked over to Jasper to see he was awake and watching a muted television. They were going to be released today after the doctor came by and gave the okay and put in the orders.

John still had not gotten back many memories yet, but the doctor told him not to get discouraged that it could take more time before they began to filter back. He told him there could be triggers that would pull up memories of his past, but once it started, he was sure they would continue. He did know his parents were dead but didn't know their names and there was something about a black Chevy Impala and a fire, but it was just bits and pieces that he couldn't put together yet. There were still too many pieces of the puzzle missing for him to make sense of it.

Out of the kindness of their hearts, Jasper and Bessie had asked him to come stay with them while he healed and regained his memories. He still couldn't believe his luck. He didn't think he had ever worked on a farm but guessed there was a first time for everything. John was sure he was the type person who didn't mind getting his hands dirty so helping them out on the farm shouldn't be a problem.

"Good morning John, are you ready to get out of here?" Jasper asked him.

"More than ready. And thank you again for helping me and asking me to come with you."

"Son, you'll be helping us more than you know. My wife is a born caregiver, so don't be surprised if she showers you with all sorts of love, mothering, and concern."

"Good to know. I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings or anything. Your wife is a wonderful, caring woman."

"That she is. She's one in a million and I thank my lucky stars that she came into my life all those years ago."

"Am I being talked about?" Bessie asked as she stepped into the room carrying a bag.

"Of course, you are honey. I was telling John you were going to be a mother hen once we get home."

"Oh, you stop it Jasper, you're going to scare the boy off," Bessie fussed at him. "I'm not sure these will fit but knew you couldn't be wearing those clothes you were wearing when we found you. You only had on one boot but thought sneakers would be better to travel in for now. When we get home, you can get you another pair of boots." Bessie sat the bag beside John on the bed and went over to Jasper giving him a hug and kiss.

"Thanks Bessie, I'll pay you back or you can take it out of my pay," John told her opening the bag. He found a tee shirt, sweatpants, briefs, socks, sneakers and a light jacket.

"Good morning gentlemen and how are we doing today?" Dr. Houston asked as he strolled in on rounds. He opened a chart and looked it over before going to John and doing a brief exam. He removed the gauze from around his head and checked the gash. "The stitches will dissolve on their own, so you don't have to have them taken out. Are you having any problems John? How's the headaches?"

"Still a little sore, but the headaches are better."

"Have any memories started coming back?"

"Bits and pieces but nothing important like my name and who I am."

"It will come give it time. I'm going to discharge you today since you have a place to go and will leave prescriptions for pain meds with your discharge paperwork. If you develop any problems, go to the nearest hospital."

"Thank you and I will."

"Good luck with you sir and take care of yourself," Dr. Houston told him shaking his hand. "And it seems you are being discharged too Mr. Hooper."

"Yes sir I am," Jasper spoke up.

"And the PT people have given you the exercises for your knee and you are to follow up with your family doctor in two week or sooner if you have any problems."

"That sounds right."

"Good luck to you I hope all goes well." Dr. Houston scribbled in his chart and turned to leave. "The nurses will start the discharge paperwork and we should have you both out of here before lunch. Goodbye."

"Thank you doctor," Bessie told him.

"I'm going to get a shower and change," John told them as he eased to the side of the bed and stood. He waited a moment as the dizziness passed and took his new clothes with him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

John sat the clothes on the counter and turned on the water for the shower. He untied the gown and let it drop to the floor and looked at his body in the mirror. He could see the bruises that were scattered over his body and also the thin outline of scars and wondered how he got them. He could tell that he worked out or did something to stay in shape at least since he looked fit. He adjusted the temperature and stepped under the hot spray letting it run down his face and winced when the spray hit the stitched gash on the side of his head.

The water felt good to his sore body and he opened the shampoo to squeeze a small amount out and carefully massaged it into his hair to remove the dried blood and dirt. He rinsed and used the small cake of soap to wash his body. John stood under the spray for a few minutes letting it beat on his shoulders and turned to do the same for his chest. He turned the water off and grabbed a towel from the rack by the shower.

He grabbed the side of the shower as a flash of a memory made him dizzy. It was another bathroom and he was in the shower cleaning up. The water ran red from the blood being rinsed from his body, but it wasn't his blood. The memory was gone as quickly as it came, and he sat down on the commode so he wouldn't fall. John couldn't comprehend the memory or the blood. A soft knock sounded at the door and he looked toward it.

**spn**

"He seems better today," Bessie commented.

"I think he's ready to get out of here. From talking with him last night, I don't think he likes hospitals even if he can't remember anything else. He was talking about signing himself out AMA but I convinced him to wait at least until today and see if he would be discharged."

"He does sound like a head strong boy. I do hope his memories start coming back soon for his sake. It's not mentally healthy for him to stress over that. He may be healing physically, but his mental health will suffer."

"Hopefully we can help him with that. We can be his family until he knows who he is and wants to move on."

"That we can Bess, that we can."

"Let me get your clothes and let's get you dressed and ready to go. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No, I'm sure it'll be around shortly."

Ten minutes later an orderly brought in two trays with breakfast food and sat them down on the tables before leaving.

Bessie went to the bathroom door and knocked softly before calling out to John. "John, they brought breakfast for you."

"Thanks Bessie, I'll be out in a moment," he replied. John took the clothes Bessie brought him and slipped them on, being careful of his head wound. He ran the towel over his wet hair before stepping to the door and opening it. He saw the table had been moved to his bed and the tray of food was sitting there waiting on him. He tried to push the memory of the blood from his mind as his stomach rolled.

"Looks like I did pretty good with the sizes," Bessie noted looking John over in his new clothes.

"You did, and I'm grateful for all you're doing for me." He looked at the food tray not sure he could stand the smell of food.

"Aren't you hungry John?" Jasper asked when he saw the pale look on John's face.

"I'm fine," John answered moving to sit on the bed and open the coffee. He took a few sips of the brew and grimaced with the taste. He took the toast and began to eat it thinking it would be easy on the stomach. No way was he trying the eggs, but he did snag a piece of bacon, thinking he couldn't let that go to waste. He munched on his measly breakfast pausing to see if it was going to stay down before sampling the apple sauce. After he was done, John moved the table away from his bed and sat down to wait for his discharge paperwork. He absently watched the television to keep his mind off the memory and what it could mean.

"John, the trip back to the farm is going to take a little longer since we will need to stop for you guys to stretch or if you need anything you speak up," Bessie told him.

"Alright, I'll try not to be too much trouble."

"You will not be any trouble John; I'll have to stop for Jasper to get out and walk so his knee won't be so stiff. We'll have to stop to eat and get gas too, but if you need to stop any other time it is fine. You'll be staying in our guest room tonight until I can air out the studio at the barn and put clean linen on the bed. It'll need a quick cleaning since it hasn't been used in a while. Don't want you sleeping with any spiders or anything."

"I'm sure it'll be fine Bessie."

"No use arguing with her son, when she's got her mind set on something there's no changing it. Just go with the flow."

John looked at the couple with interest and gratitude that they were opening their home to a stranger they knew nothing about. They talked about random things while they waited for the nurse to come with discharge paperwork.

An hour later, two nurses came in pushing wheelchairs and had Jasper and John sign their discharge paperwork and went over post op directions. Bessie went down to pull the car around to the front to pick them up. They were given copies of the paperwork, along with prescriptions and were pushed to the elevator to go down to the first floor and out to the car. Bessie was waiting and opened the back door and passenger door for them.

John let Jasper have the back so he could stretch out his leg and eased into the passenger seat and got comfortable. He buckled up and waited for Bessie to get in and crank up the car. He got a feeling that driving was his thing and wasn't usually a passenger like now. The weather was cooperating with clear skies ahead of them.

**spn**

"We're almost there," Jasper told John.

John was in the backseat now and was looking out the window at the landscape. They had bypassed a small town thirty minutes ago and the houses he had seen were getting farther apart and there was a lot of farmland around. It was close to evening, but it was not getting dark yet. The traffic was almost nonexistence now that they were away from the town.

Fifteen minutes later, Bessie turned off the road onto a gravel road and drove a couple of miles before turning onto a driveway that had a mailbox with sunflowers painted on it. She stopped and got out to get the mail before continuing up the driveway that had trees randomly lining it. It ended in a circular drive in front of a large, clapboard house with a wraparound porch in front and a large barn sitting back beside it. The place was well maintained and had flower beds along the front of the house. Bessie pulled up to a two-car garage and press the remote to raise one of the doors. Once it was up, she carefully pulled inside and hit the remote to close the door behind them.

"Home at last," Jasper sighed as he opened his door to get out. "Welcome to our humble home John."

John got out of the back and saw a pickup truck parked in the other bay. He waited for them to get Jasper's things and open the door that lead into a laundry room/pantry. Bessie turned off the alarm before unlocking the door that led into the house itself. He stepped into a large kitchen with a breakfast nook. It was warm and homey looking painted a soft cream color with granite counter tops and light wooden cabinets.

"Why don't I show you the guest bedroom and you can freshen up and I'll put a casserole I fixed in the oven for dinner tonight," Bessie suggested.

"That's fine," John told her. He followed her to a hallway that branched in different directions. He could see a family room one way and doors down the hall the way they went.

"Here you go," she said opening a door for a large bedroom with its own bathroom. "There's a new toothbrush, paste, shampoo, razors, shaving cream and soap already in your bathroom. Look in the drawers and under the sink. If you don't find something you need you let me know. I tried to keep the basics in there so guests will have it when they are here. Use what you need, and you can take it with you to the studio tomorrow, so you'll have it. We can go into town when you feel like it and get whatever else you might need. Come on back to the kitchen when you're ready. The casserole will take about forty-five minutes to cook."

"Alright, thanks." John moved into the room and looked around for a moment before stepping into the bathroom to use it. He washed his hands and stepped back into the bedroom. He went to the window and looked out it seeing rows of crops below the backyard. Everything looked well-kept and the house felt comfortable. It felt lived in and had a country theme to its decoration. This room was a soft blue and there was a queen size bed against one wall. A comfortable chair sat at the window and a small bookcase sat nearby with books to choose from to read. He sat down on the bed and felt the mattress thinking it would sleep good tonight. He moved to the chair and sat down and let his eyes roam the surroundings. He let his mind wander and when he looked at the clock on the nightstand, he saw nearly thirty minutes had passed. Thinking he had waited long enough, John wandered back down the hall toward the kitchen. He paused long enough to look at the family pictures hanging on the wall. He studied one of their son dressed in Marine dress blues and thought he looked every bit the soldier he had been.

He found Bessie and Jasper sitting at the small table in the breakfast nook drinking tea.

"Can I get you a glass of tea John?"

"I can get it just point me in the right direction," John said. "It's not right you are waiting on me."

"The glasses are in the cabinet by the sink and the tea is in the fridge."

John opened the cabinet and found the glasses and got one. He put ice in it from the dispenser in the fridge door and found a pitcher of tea inside. After filling his glass, he joined them at the table. Bessie had already set plates around for them and had cheese and crackers out to munch on while the casserole cooked.

"You've got a nice place here. How many acres is it?"

"It's seventy-five acres, more or less. We don't have but one neighbor about two miles down the road and the rest is undeveloped for now."

"Hopefully no one will be building nearby any time soon. We like our privacy out here."

"It is nice. Man Bessie, that casserole sure smells good. I can't wait to taste it."

"I told you she's an amazing cook, so be prepared for some awesome meals."

John looked at Jasper for a moment thinking that word was familiar to him. He wasn't sure if it was him saying it or someone else, but it triggered something in his mind.

"Jasper said you like pies, do you have a favorite?"

"I'm not sure," John answered. "But any flavor would be fine."

"Alright, I'll make a fresh apple tomorrow. The fruit is from our own trees we planted when we bought the place. We have apple, peach, pecan, and pear trees planted out by the crops and we also have beehives for honey."

"Wow, you guys really have a good thing going here. I can't wait to check the place out and get to work."

"You're not doing anything strenuous for another day or so. I don't want you relapsing because you pushed yourself," Jasper cautioned him. "I'll give you a tour of the place tomorrow and we can check on the crop to see if anything needs tending."

"That sounds good."

"I have homemade bread to go with the casserole. Would you like it toasted with butter?"

"Toasted sounds good but let me help."

"Nope, give it a few days and I'll have you cooking along beside me," she insisted getting up to fix the bread.

John smiled as Bessie busied herself with cutting slices of her homemade bread and found the butter in the fridge. She filled a pan and slipped it into the oven beside the casserole. His mouth started watering as the delicious smell came out of the oven and filled the room. He couldn't wait to taste it and the homemade bread too.

The meal was quiet with small talk and that was fine with John since he didn't have much to talk about. It was like his life started four days ago when he woke up in the hospital. He had no recollection of what happened to him or how he ended up on the road where Jasper and Bessie found him. John didn't know his likes or dislikes, what he did for a living, if he had family, where he was from, nothing anyone else would know. Jasper and Bessie tried to keep it light and filled the silence with stories of their lives for John.

"Bessie, if you were not already married, I'd ask for your hand. That was the best meal I've had," John complimented her.

"I bet you say that to all the good cooks you know," she preened and realized what she said. "I'm sorry John," she said softly when she saw John's face fall.

"You know, we've all had a long day, I for one think we should call it a night and head to bed early," Jasper offered. He knew Bessie didn't mean to hurt John' feelings with her words, but knew it had.

"It's fine, and I agree. I am a little tired," John said. "I'll help you clean up first." He got up and took his dirty dishes to the sink.

"You'll do nothing of a kind young man. I can take care of them. I'll rinse them and put them in the dishwasher and put away the leftovers. It won't take me but a few minutes."

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"I'll take you up on that offer another time. You go on to bed and get some rest. I think that will do you better than anything. You've got a full stomach, comfortable bed, nice quiet surroundings, what more could you ask for?"

"I'm holding you to that. If you cook, I'll be more than happy to clean up afterwards. Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning." John nodded to them and headed to the hallway and down to the guest bedroom he would be using. He stepped into the bathroom and looked in the drawer to find a new toothbrush and some paste. He brushed his teeth and washed his face before heading into the bedroom.

He opened the window since it was nice and cool outside to let some fresh air in. There was an overhead fan he turned on low to circulate the air. Since he had no other clothes, John stripped down to his briefs and crawled under the covers, letting his tired body sink into the mattress. He could hear the night sounds outside and let them lull him to sleep.

**A/N: They are out of the hospital and home now. Memories will begin to filter back to John, but they will not be understood. Thank you for reading and hope you are enjoying it. Reviews are great. NC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

John woke slowly to unfamiliar surroundings and reached for a weapon under his pillow that wasn't there. His brow knitted together wondering why he would think a gun or knife would be there. Did he even know how to shoot a gun? Hell, did he even know how to fight? He looked at his fisted hands and let them relax thinking they didn't look like the hands of someone who had it easy in their life, so he figured he worked for a living. He could see the sun was up and could hear a waking world outside his window. Fleeting images teased his mind of rundown, dingy, ratty, motel rooms that he must have stayed at some time in his life and wondered why he would pick such disgusting places. He wondered if it had to do with finances.

He threw back the covers and sat up slowly testing his body. Most of the soreness and aches were gone and his head didn't hurt like it did. He moved his shoulders and stretched feeling slightly stiff from his hospital stay. He hoped helping Jasper out on the farm would get him back to what he was. As he started to get up, a flash of a memory popped into his mind for a split second, but not long enough for him to fully grasp it. He was in a forest chasing something or someone. It didn't make any sense and he didn't dwell on it not wanting to make his head start hurting again. He headed into the bathroom first before grabbing the sweatpants and slipping them on and then the tee shirt. Deciding against shoes for now, he walked sock footed down the hall to the kitchen.

Enticing aromas wafted into the dining room as John walked through it to find Jasper at the breakfast table drinking coffee and Bessie busying herself at the stove.

"Good morning John. I hope you slept well," Jasper greeted him.

"I did. It was a lot better than the hospital bed that's for sure."

"I hope you are hungry. I'm making pancakes, bacon and eggs for breakfast," Bessie called to him.

"Help yourself to coffee. If you're like me, can't get started in the mornings without it."

"I agree with you on that." John stepped to the counter where to coffee pot sat and used the mug sitting by it. He poured a cup and joined Jasper at the table.

"Would you like to look at the paper?" he offered pushing part of a newspaper his way. "It's not a big paper but its enjoyable to read with my coffee."

"John, after breakfast I thought we'd get the studio ready for you. I've got fresh linens to take out there and we can air it out and I'll do a quick cleaning while Jasper shows you around the farm. He needs to walk, and I don't want him doing it alone."

"That's fine. But I can clean it myself to save you the trouble."

"It's no trouble at all and as small as it is it won't take anytime to do. Are scrambled eggs okay?"

"That's fine any way you want to fix them."

"I'll have them ready in a few minutes."

"If I can help just ask. I am not one to be waited on."

"Dear, I'll need to call a mechanic in town today. I need to take the truck in and see what's wrong with it. We're going to need it to make the next produce run."

"Can I look at it?" John asked. "Maybe I can tell you what's wrong with it."

"Sure, you can give it a go."

Bessie brought two plates to the table with a stack of pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs. John looked at the food and heard his stomach growl wanting to be fed. He politely waited until she was seated, and they started eating before digging into his food. It was just as delicious as the dinner the night before.

"Bessie, that was delicious, and the pancakes were so fluffy and light. You will have to tell me your secrets," John told her as he wiped his mouth and pushed back a little from the table.

"He's right dear, you do know how to please a man with your cooking."

"Isn't that why you married me?"

"That and how beautiful you were back then and still are today. You put most women your age to shame."

"Now you're just teasing me."

"It's true and you know it," Jasper said. He reached and took her hand to plant a kiss on it looking at her with such love and adoration. "I love you more each and every day."

"And I you my love."

"And I think I'll clear the table," John said feeling a little embarrassed with their display of affection.

"Don't let us bother you John, we're in love," Jasper told him letting John take his plate.

"I can see that, and I think it's amazing that you two have been together for so long and still act like kids." John loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and wiped the table while Bessie got sheets, pillows, quilts, towels and some cleaning supplies to take to the studio with them.

**spn**

John carried most of the items and Bessie unlocked the door leading into the studio. He stepped in and slowly looked around. To the right was a queen size bed that sat against an inside wall with a nightstand. He could see a bathroom through a door nearby and a small closet. There was a dresser against a half wall that separated the area from the kitchen. A table and two chairs sat against it on the opposite side. The kitchen had a small apartment size fridge and stove with a microwave and coffee pot sitting on the counter. There was a sink rounding off the area. To the left was a living room with a small couch, recliner, end table, small television on a stand and a bookcase filled with books to be read. He saw a DVD player under the television and half a dozen or more DVDs next to it. There were two ceiling fans, one in the living room and one over the bed on the other side of the room. The size was small, but it was everything he needed to be comfortable. A thought passed through his mind that he had stayed in worse over the years and wasn't sure what to make of it.

"John can you help me get the plastic cover off the mattress?" Bessie called it him. "I've turned on the all the breakers to get everything going, hot water heater, fridge, and power."

"Coming," he replied. John joined Bessie beside the bed and let her unzip the cover before easing it off and down the mattress. He pulled it off the end and shook it out to fold up.

"You can put that in the closet for now," Bessie told him. "I'll open the windows and turn on the fans to get some fresh air in here. The thermostat is here for a heat pump for a/c and heat."

John grabbed the end of the sheet that Bessie shook out and fitted the end over the mattress, pulling it in place and wiping the wrinkles out. They put on the top sheet and John watched Bessie do hospital corners at the bottom before putting the pillowcases on the pillows. John unfolded one of the quilts and spread it over the top covering the sheets. He laid the other quilt on the dresser and stepped back to survey their handiwork.

"There," Bessie said. "Looking better already. Now you go on and find Jasper. He wants to show off his farm. He's proud of what he has accomplished here. I'll do a quick clean and it'll be ready for you."

"I feel bad leaving you here to do that."

"Please, I'll feel better if you're out there with Jasper to be sure he doesn't overdo it. I've got some basic food you can bring out later. There's dishes, silverware, pots and pans in the kitchen for you to use, but I expect you to have meals with us. I always make enough for one more."

"You are too good to me. I mean, I'm a stranger to you and…" John started as he choked up and couldn't go on. He tried to hide his tears from her and clenched his lips together so the sob wouldn't escape.

"Awe…Come here honey," Bessie told him. She pulled him into a warm hug and John melted into it. It felt good and comforting. Bessie only came up to his shoulders and he engulfed her small frame. "It's okay. You're going to get your memory back and things will turn out just fine. You've got to believe that dear." She rubbed his back and felt the wetness of tears on her shoulder where his face was pressed into her neck.

After a few minutes, John pulled away and wiped his face as he cleared his throat. He was embarrassed about letting his emotions show and had a feeling he didn't do that very often. "I'll go find Jasper."

"Don't either of you do too much now," she warned him.

"We won't."

**spn**

John found Jasper sitting on the back deck waiting on him. He saw he had a cane to walk with and was glad.

"Are you ready to see the place?" Jasper asked him, getting up from the chair.

"I am," John said clapping his hands together.

Jasper stepped from the deck and led John out toward the fields. The day was starting off cool and clear and it felt good walking around the farm. Jasper and John walked through trees with apples hanging from the branches. There were other fruit trees planted in the orchard and butted up to the orchard was where tomatoes, beans, okra, squash, cucumbers, corn, potatoes and sweet potatoes were planted. Most of the crop had been collected, but there was one more picking, except for the potatoes and sweet potatoes. Below the field was a small patch of pumpkins that were ripening for the fall harvest. Jasper named off all the types of trees in the orchard and the best cooking use of them. He explained about planting crops and how you had to rotated them each year to keep from leeching the soil of its nutrients.

They walked below the field of crops to a river that wandered through the landscape and disappeared into the forest. It was peaceful standing by the river and listening to the water flowing over the rocks. John liked it there and was going to make a point of coming back this place.

"You can see there's not much left, but I think we can get one more picking before it will be ready to clear," Jasper told him. "Once we pick, I'll need to get the crops into town to be sold."

"Why don't we look at your truck next and I'll see if I can find out what's wrong," John suggested.

"That sounds good, if we need to take it in to the mechanic, we can do that after lunch. Do you think you know about cars?"

"I think I might. It's just a feeling I have. We better head back. I told Bessie I'd be sure you didn't overdo it," John told him.

"Alright, we surely don't want to get on her bad side. She might not cook for us for a week."

"We can't have that. I don't know if I can cook and I haven't got to try her pies yet," John laughed.

They walked back toward the house and Jasper told him about finding and buying the farm all those years ago and the ups and downs of starting out and producing profitable crops. They found Bessie back in the kitchen fixing some lemonade for them.

"Good you're back," she smiled as they came in the sliding glass door. "I've got lemonade ready."

"You are too good to us dear," Jasper told her kissing her cheek.

"Let me help you with those glasses," John said grabbing up three glasses and putting ice in them. He took them to the table and poured lemonade for all to enjoy. John seemed to be fitting right in with Jasper and Bessie and wondered if his real life was anything like this or if there was some dark life waiting for him out there. He didn't want to think about that at the moment, instead he wanted to enjoy this time with his newfound friends.

After the short break, John and Jasper went into the garage to check the truck. Jasper opened the garage door to let the light in and John reached in to unlock the hood. He opened it and waited for Jasper to crank it. The engine sputtered to life and John cocked his head as he listened to it run and heard the knocking and rough sound it made.

"When was the last time the spark plugs have been checked?"

"It's been a while."

"Do you have any tools?"

"Sure, in the barn where I keep the tractor and other farm equipment."

"Why don't you pull it over there and let me check a few things." Dean closed the hood and stepped back so Jasper could pull the truck out and drive it toward the doors of the barn and park it.

John opened the barn doors and went in looking around until he spotted a work bench with tools on one side. He walked over and looked through them picking up several before going back to the truck. Jasper had opened the hook again and waited for John to join him.

It was like second nature to John as he began to work on the engine, checking the basics to see if he could find anything wrong. He didn't think it was anything major. After twenty minutes, John stepped back and wiped his hands on a rag he had picked up from the bench. He told Jasper when they went into town if they'd run by a car parts store, he could get what he needed to tune the truck and it should be fine.

Jasper was pleased and had him look at a tractor that wasn't running. He found a broken belt and a leaking hose on the tractor engine and added the parts to the mental list he had in his head. He was pleased to find out that some things he knew were not forgotten. He just wondered what else he knew that he didn't know he knew.

**spn**

Bessie fixed another delicious meal for their dinner and she let John help her clean up afterwards. She could tell he was doing better, at least physically, but he had not mentioned if any new memories had come back or not. This worried her because she wondered if there was a mother and father or other family members out there searching for him, consumed with dread and worry that he might be dead.

"John can you help me with something?" she asked him once they were finished.

"Of course, I'd be happy to," John told her. He followed her down the hall past the bedroom he had used the night before to another door. She paused for a moment and opened it to go inside. John was sure this had been their son's room as he looked around.

"There's two boxes in the top of the closet if you'll get them down for me."

John looked in the closet and saw the two large boxes sitting on the shelf and reached in to carefully get one down. He sat it on the bed and retrieved the other before he stepped back allowing her access to them.

"I don't know why I kept these things all these years, but I'm glad I did now," she said. She pulled the tape loose and opened one box to reveal men's clothes neatly folded and stored. "These were our son's clothes that he left here when he last visited us and what was sent home by the military. I don't know if they will fit or not, but you're welcome to any that do. I know you have nothing and thought this would help you out."

"No, no Bessie I couldn't take these," John gasped knowing how much these meant to her.

"Please, I know Trace would have wanted this. He was that type of person, always helping others. He would be happy that someone else was able to use them. I don't know if they will fit, he was a little taller than you, but otherwise about the same size."

"Yeah, my little brother is taller than me too," John said. He looked at Bessie in surprise with what he said.

"You have a brother?" she questioned reaching for his hands to hold them.

"I think so," John whispered. "It was just a fleeting thought but nothing solid."

"It's a start John, don't try to force it, let it come naturally. It's in there and will come back to you, I am sure of it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he sighed not sure he was so sure.

"Why don't you go through the boxes and take what you can wear. I'm sorry I don't have any shoes. Tomorrow we'll go into town for boots and some basic food items for the studio."

"You are doing too much Bessie; I have no money to pay you back."

"I'm not worried about that dear. I think you were put in our path when we found you on the road that day. You needed a friend and we need someone to help us. It was Fate that brought us together. We can toss the clothes you pick in the dryer to get any old, musty smell from them. I've kept cedar in the closet for that, but we can freshen them up."

John didn't know what to say and watched Bessie smile at him and walk out of the bedroom. He turned back to the boxes and looked at them. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable taking some of these clothes, but a whisper sounded by his ear, _'It's okay'_. John jerked and looked around but didn't see anyone as a shiver ran up his spine like the temperature seemed to drop in the room. There was something about that feeling that he was familiar with, but it wouldn't come. Not wanting to upset Bessie or Jasper, he pulled out a shirt and looked at it, holding it to his chest to see if it would fit.

Once John had gone through the clothes, he put the ones he couldn't or didn't like into one box, sealed it and put it back in the closet. He gathered the others in his arms and headed to the laundry room to do what Bessie suggested. He put them in the dryer with a dryer sheet and turned it on. John wandered into the family room to sit with Jasper and Bessie to watch television while the dryer ran. He was going to stay in the studio tonight alone and was a little apprehensive.

When the dryer dinged, John got up and went to fold the clothes. He had found four pairs of jeans, half a dozen tee shirts, four long sleeves shirts, hoodie, socks, military jacket and a couple pairs of sweats. They were a little big but since he had nothing, he wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth. Now all he needed was some boots to wear while he worked on the farm and he needed some more briefs. Other than that, he could make do with what he had here.

John thanked the Hoopers for all they were doing for him and headed out the backdoor to the studio attached to the barn. He unlocked the door and went inside taking his clothes to the dresser and putting them away. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. He closed the windows and adjusted the thermostat before turning down the bed and getting in. The quiet of the place seemed to make him uneasy and he lay there listening for any sounds out of place. He couldn't shake this feeling that something was missing but didn't know what. His mind finally shut down and he went to sleep as the place creaked and settled around him.

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**A/N: Small pieces of John's life are filtering in and we will see more of that happening. Thank you for reading. Reviews would be nice. NC**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: We are halfway through this story and I hope you are enjoying the journey. We are back with Sam and Bobby and they get their first real lead on Dean. Will it be enough? I do like reviews and hope I can get at least 100 for this story. You can make it happen. If you have a moment, please leave one. NC**

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**Chapter 6**

Bobby walked from the kitchen with a cup of coffee heading for his office but paused at the couch where the youngest Winchester was sleeping. He had barely slept since they found out Dean was missing nearly a week ago. He was running on coffee and adrenaline, but that was wearing him down and it was showing. His face was pinched, and slight bruising was shadowing his eyes. His body twitched and he frowned showing his sleep was not restful as it should be.

They had been pulling in every resource available to them searching for the older Winchester. Bobby knew Sam was not taking it well that they hadn't gotten any leads yet and he was starting to worry too. His one thought was Dean wasn't able to call them because he was dead, but he would never voice this to Sam. He couldn't give up hope or all Sam to either. He had to keep believing there was another reason he hadn't called. He walked on into his office and sat down just as his landline for the salvage yard started ringing.

"Singer Salvage," he growled into the receiver.

"_Is this Bobby Singer, owner of Singer Salvage Yard?"_ an unfamiliar male voice asked. It held an air of authority in his words as he spoke.

"It is, who is this?" he asked suspiciously. His customers wouldn't be asking questions like that or sounding like this.

"_I'm with the highway patrol and we found a vehicle registered to you wrecked in a ravine off country road 18 in Benton County, Indiana. We found paperwork with your name on it and a wallet for a Dean Winchester in the wheel well of the vehicle."_

"Did you find him?" he asked quickly.

"_No, there was blood on the driver's side, but we didn't find the driver anywhere. Are you related to this person?"_

"Yes, he was coming back from a parts run for me and never made it home. We've been looking for him all week."

"_The car is being taken to an impound lot and can be picked up there. Our best guess is Mr. Winchester lost control on the wet, slick road and went over the side. From there, we don't know."_

"Give me all the information you have, and I'll be heading your way immediately." Bobby scribbled rapidly on a piece of paper and thanked the officer before hurrying out to wake Sam. This was the first real lead they had and hopefully it would send them to Dean. "Sam wake up!" Bobby demanded in an urgent voice.

"Wh…" Sam cried out jerking awake and reaching for his weapon.

"The highway patrol in Indiana found my car Dean was driving; it was wrecked."

"Dean?" Sam questioned quickly a look of excitement in his bloodshot eyes as the words sank in.

"He wasn't at the scene. We need to leave now, go get your bag. I got the Impala running if you want to drive it. I'll be taking the flatbed to bring the wreck back."

"That's great and yeah I'll drive it. I'll be back down in a minute," Sam told him running for the stairs to grab his bag from their bedroom. His mind was racing wondering where Dean was if he wasn't in the car. It had to mean he was still alive, but why hadn't he contacted them was the million-dollar question. Unless, he couldn't call because he had been hurt. What if he had been seriously injured? What if he was… He wouldn't let his mind think that way, he would know if that happened. Sam grabbed his bag from the closet and threw some clothes into it. He started out but stopped short and went back pulling Dean's bag out and throwing clothes in it for him. His hand ran across something in his sock drawer and without thinking about it dropped it into the duffle too. He didn't stop to see what else was in the duffle as he closed it. He stepped into the bathroom on his way out to use it before heading back down to find Bobby.

Bobby was sitting in the idling flatbed waiting on Sam. He watched him run from the house, put bags in the back, and climb into the driver's seat of the Impala. Bobby put the truck into gear and headed out to pick up the road heading southeast and Sam followed him in the Impala.

Once they were on a main road, Sam called Bobby and put him on speaker, "Tell me what you know."

"Highway patrol called. My car was found wrecked off a country road in the middle of nowhere. They think it's been there since the storm passed through. They did find Dean's wallet inside the car. A motorist stopped to walk their dog and saw it and called it in. There was blood in the car but no body, nor did they find anything near the car." Bobby told him. He had his cell on speaker so he could talk to Sam and drive. He knew Sam wasn't going to wait to find out what he knew.

"Maybe someone found him and took him to the hospital."

"We can only hope. They have been searching the woods and the area around there but haven't found anything."

"How long will it take to get there?"

"Remember I'm driving a flatbed, probably seven or eight hours at least. We'll only stop for gas."

"Damn," Sam muttered wishing there was a way to get there quicker. He knew Bobby was doing his best and was just as worried about Dean as he was. He drew in some breaths to calm his fast beating heart and tried to figure his next move. He pulled up a map of the United States in his head, trying to pinpoint the location of the crash. Sam was thinking Dean had been taking one of his famous short cuts when the storm overtook him. When they stopped, he was going to look at the nearest towns around the area and check to see how many hospitals there were.

Sam was putting a plan together in his head. He was going to hit the hospitals personally to see if he could find out anything about his brother. If he was unconscious and didn't have any ID on him then they wouldn't know who he was or who to contact for him. He would start at the ones closest to the crash site and work his way outward in a spiral search. His mind went to the darker side because he knew he needed to check out the morgues while he was there too. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Bobby talking to him still on his cell until he heard his voice yell at him.

"Sorry Bobby what?"

"It's going to be too late to do anything once we get there. We'll stop and get a motel room at the nearest town and go check out the car in the morning. I have the address for the impound yard."

"Bobby, you think he's okay?" he asked in a tentative voice.

"We have to believe that Sam."

"I know, but I'm scared Bobby. I'm scared for Dean."

"I know son, I am too, but Dean's strong and one tough kid. He's okay."

Sam couldn't answer him as he gripped the steering wheel tighter and focused on staying behind the flatbed. He kept his thoughts to himself watching the back of the truck. His eyes went out of focus for a moment as an image of a wrecked car filled it. He could see the crushed and ripped metal, the shattered windows, and the smeared blood. Sam shook his head and rubbed his temple when a dull ache started behind his eyes. This was what happened when those weird visions started happening with him. He didn't like them, and they scared the hell out of him, but he couldn't stop them. He knew not to ignore them but sometimes didn't understand them and was trying to learn to live with them.

"Hang up now Sam and concentrate on driving. Dean will kick your ass if you wreck the Impala," Bobby's voice spoke through his cell. He saw the Impala weave slightly behind him and knew Sam was struggling.

"Alright, you're right. I'll talk to you when we stop for gas."

**spn**

It was late when Bobby pulled into a motel and to the office. He got out and went inside to get them a room for the night. Sam stayed in the Impala and waited not happy they couldn't go see the car tonight. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he scanned the area, his hunter instincts never shutting down. He straightened up when Bobby came out and moved the flatbed to the back of the building and parked in front of a room. He was able to pull in beside him and park the Impala.

Bobby let them into a room with two queen size beds. He randomly chose one and sat his bag on it leaving the other for Sam.

"You want the bathroom first?" Sam asked him.

"Sure," he shrugged taking his bag into the bathroom and closing the door.

Sam sat down on his bed to wait his turn and seemed to deflate. He was running out of steam and his body was telling him he needed rest. His eyes were scratchy and blurry, and he squeezed them shut before rubbing them lightly with his fingertips.

"All yours Sam," Bobby offered when he stepped back into the room.

"Thanks," Sam replied. He picked his bag up and headed into the bathroom to do his routine so he could go to bed. By the time he was finished, Sam was dragging when he came back out and went to turn down his bed. He turned off the light between the bed and slipped between the covers. He settled into the mattress and turned on his side hoping sleep would come quickly for him. His lack of sleep over the past several days bore down on him and swept him away into an abyss of ebony darkness.

**spn**

The light of a new day brightened the room as Sam rolled over and tried to wake his leaden body. His arms felt like they weighted fifty pounds as he moved them to throw back the covers. He looked toward the table across the room and saw Bobby was sitting there drinking coffee. There was a bag and another large cup sitting there waiting for him. He groaned under his breath as he pushed his still tired body up off the bed to sit on the side of it. It took him a few minutes to get up the energy to stumble to the bathroom before joining Bobby at the table.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he asked wearily.

"You needed the sleep and the impound yard isn't open yet. I went out and got some breakfast for us to eat before heading over there."

Sam pulled the coffee toward him and opened it to add creamer and sugar. He stirred it before taking a sip hoping the caffeine would energize him.

Bobby pulled out a breakfast sandwich and pushed it his way knowing he needed to eat. He knew the boys well enough to know if something happened to one of them, the other would not take care of themselves. Sam wasn't eating regularly, sleeping enough, or taking care of hygiene needs.

"Eat, and get a shower before we leave," Bobby told him.

Sam nodded and opened the sandwich to begin eating it. He didn't taste it as he bit, chewed and swallowed. He washed it down with coffee and gathered his trash when he was done.

"I'm going to hang around here and look for Dean after you pick up the car," Sam told him.

"I had a feeling you would. You need to see what the highway patrol have done so you're not doing double the work," Bobby told him.

"Yeah, good idea."

They packed their belongings and headed out to the vehicles to go to the impound lot. Bobby went first and Sam followed. They needed to drive to the next larger town over to the main impound to get the car. The traffic thinned out some after they got away from the town and they made better time. Less than two hours later, Bobby slowed and pulled up to the gate of the impound lot and stopped.

"Can I help you?" a man asked coming out of a guard shack.

"I'm here to pick up my car that was found wrecked," Bobby told him. "I got a call from the highway patrol about it."

"Name."

"Bobby Singer, Singer Salvage."

The man looked at a clipboard and flipped a couple of pages. "Here we go, it's located in section C-7. Go in and bear to the right. Follow the signs and you'll find it. You'll have to come back by and sign the pickup paperwork before you leave."

"Alright I can do that," Bobby replied. He went back to the flatbed and waited for the man to open the gate wider.

Sam parked the Impala outside the lot and walked behind the flatbed as they looked for the car. When Sam got his first look at the car, he paled and stumbled to the side gripping a vehicle nearby to stay on his feet. He eyes took in the crushed, bent, mis-formed car and his stomach clench tightly as he fought the urge to throw up when bile rose in this throat. He swallowed hard and drew in some slow breaths. Seeing the damage to the car made him wonder how bad Dean had been hurt. He forced himself to move closer and investigate the interior seeing blood, his brother's blood splattered inside.

"You okay Sam?" Bobby asked when he saw the washed out look on Sam's face and how he wavered, thinking he was going to pass out.

"Yeah," Sam said. He cleared his throat and wiping a hand down his face. "Guess we should get it loaded so you can head out."

"I'll move the truck and line it up, watch my sides."

"Got it Bobby." Sam moved where he could see better and watched as Bobby positioned the flatbed so he could lower the bed and released the hooks. Sam helped him take the hooks and attach them to the car so he could slowly pull the wreck onto the bed.

Once the car was locked down and ready for transport, Bobby pulled around to the gate and stopped at the guardhouse. He got out to sign the paperwork and pay the storage fee. When he was done, Bobby pulled the flatbed from the impound yard. He stopped and waited for Sam to come up to the cab.

"I'm going to head back Sam. You be careful and keep me up dated on anything you find," Bobby told Sam.

"I will Bobby. I'm going to go by the highway patrol office and check with them and then start searching myself. I'll let you know if I find anything. Have a safe trip back."

"Take care son," Bobby said. He pulled away leaving Sam standing alone on the sidewalk until he was out of sight.

Sam watched him leave and went to the Impala and got in. He went in search of the highway patrol office to see what areas they had covered so he would know where to begin his search. His brother was out there, hurt, unconscious, possibly dead, no matter what, he needed to find him.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Dean starts getting memories back but he's not sure how to handle them. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I do love reviews. NC**

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**Chapter 7**

_Smoke was rolling from the bedroom across from his and he could see fingers of flames licking the ceiling. A small bundle was pushed into his arms and a voice told him to get his brother to safety. He was standing outside trying to comfort his brother when a man ran from the house and grabbed them up carrying them away from the destruction. He could see the man, that he thought was his father, change before his young eyes. He was in the back of a black car with a two-year-old bundled against the cold waiting for their father. There were cold, rundown motel rooms that flipped through his mind, one just as bad as the first one as he watched himself grow with each new scene._

John mumbled and rolled over as more memories flooded his sleeping mind wanting him to remember. He tried to fight them, to push them away, but they were stronger than him. It was like something inside of him was forcing him to see these thoughts and to grasp their meaning, to understand who he was.

_The man was showing him how to hold a gun and shoot it. After only a few shots he hit the target and smiled happily up at him. He was older and learning hand to hand combat and how to defend himself with a knife. He was in the woods and he was hunting, but it wasn't deer he was after. A low, deep growl echoed from the bushes before a creature jumped out at him with teeth bared and claws ready to tear him apart, but it still looked almost human. A shot ran out over his head and the creature screamed in pain and fell at his feet dead. He was digging up a grave as a teenager watched the darkness, holding a sawed-off shotgun to protect him. They were sitting in a library going through microfilm looking for information. He was alone sitting in a black car not sure what to do._

_The machete swished through the air and took off the head of someone sending blood spurting out into the air. Part of it splashed back on him as he turned to take on another person or monster. The scene changed and John/Dean spun a body around and stabbed a knife into his chest. Another scene showed bodies with blood pooling around them and he was standing in the middle panting hard waiting to see if there were anymore going to attack. He was in a house, moving silently through it and he sensed the man just as he jumped out at him. He was ready and lashed out with the silver knife thrusting it into his chest and watched as he slumped back and crumbled to the floor. He was standing by a blazing fire that looked like a funeral pyre watching a body burn and a stranger was standing beside him, but he couldn't see his face. It was out of focus and the more he tried to see, the harder the pressure in his head build until he thought it was going to explode._

John sprang up in bed panting hard as the scenes faded away in his head. Sweat poured from his body and his chest clenched so tight he could hardly breath. His head was pounding, and grayness swept over him as he fell back on the pillow trying to suck some air into his starved lungs. It took five minutes of short, sips of air before he could get in enough to drive away the darkness. John lay there forcing himself to relax as he wheezed and gasped for the next breath. He couldn't believe those were memories for him; how could they be?

His mind was whirling out of control now. What did those memories mean? He saw himself killing people and other things. There was so much blood and he could see himself covered in it. Was he a murderer? Could he be a serial killer? He was so confused by the memories surfacing that he didn't know how to handle them. Why would he be digging up a grave and he could have sworn he saw some monsters being killed. Was he crazy? Was he a bad person? Had he hurt people? If this was his real life, he didn't want it. What would Jasper and Bessie think of him if they found out? Tears blurred his vision and his breaths hitched into sobs that he couldn't control.

A gurgling started and began to build, and John stumbled from the bed to the bathroom to drop by the commode and he began to throw up. There was not much in his stomach and the bitter bile burned his throat as he spit it out. He flushed the commode and shifted his body to sit on it where he could reach the sink. He turned on the cold water and cupped some in his hand to rinse his mouth and splash his face before turning it off. He laid his head on his arm as his stomach clenched again and he fought the urge to throw up again.

A tall, long haired guy that looked a few years younger than him flashed in his mind. He was dressed in a suit and flashed an FBI badge before it faded away. He rubbed his throbbing temples wondering if that was the person that was hunting him for what he had done in the past. Was he wanted by the FBI? All these random pieces were not making sense and he couldn't seem to make them fit together. He didn't understand any of it because a couple of the bodies didn't look human. Could he be mixing fact with fiction and not be able to tell the difference? There were so many questions popping up in his mind it was being overloaded.

He pushed up and went back into the bedroom to grab his sweats. He slipped them on and picked up a light jacket on the way out the door. The moon wasn't quite full but gave enough light that he could see as he made his way past the planted crops and to the riverbank where he sat down on a large rock. He looked out at the rushing water that sparkled and reflected the light of the moon off its surface. He listened to the soothing noise that it made and tried to gather his racing thoughts.

His biggest concern was, was he a danger to Jasper and Bessie if his memories came back? Would they make him someone he didn't want to be? He would never want to put them in harm's way or cause them to get hurt, but he couldn't leave. He had no money, or transportation or destination to go. And he couldn't run out on Jasper since he was expecting him to help with the crops. He owed them that much after all they had done for him and were still doing. He was going to have to hide what he was remembering from them until he could figure out what to do. John sat on the rock for another hour before venturing back to the studio, wondering if he could sleep or would his mind be too fearful of what dreams might come next.

John let himself back inside and went to the bed to sit on the side. He knew he needed sleep, his body was telling him that, but his mind was rejecting it. He turned the clock/radio on that sat on the nightstand and lowered the volume, so music played softly taking away the silence of the room. He laid back down and listened to the soulful voice letting it calm his mind. It was an old Beatles tune, 'Hey Jude' and it sounded so familiar and made him think of warmth, love and a person with blonde hair. His eyes closed on their own and opened again only to drift shut and remain closed. His breathing evened out and the darkness swept him away into the clouds.

**spn**

John woke slowly the next morning, not feeling very rested but at least he had slept the rest of the morning without dreams or memories. He gathered clothes to put on after a shower. The bathroom was small with only a shower stall, but it was fine for him. He never used a tub so not having one wasn't a problem.

After showering and putting on clean clothes, John headed to the house knowing Jasper and Bessie had to be up since they were farmers. He had slept later than he meant knowing Bessie was taking him into town today. He wanted work boots so he could began helping in the fields. Jasper was going to supervise, and John was going to do the work. It would be light work to being with since he was still healing. The first thing on the list was fixing the truck and tractor and then move on from there. He wanted to keep himself busy to keep his mind off the dreams or memories he had the previous night.

"Good morning John, how did you sleep?" Bessie asked when she answered his knock at the back door. "You don't need to knock every time, just come on in. You can make yourself at home here."

"It was fine," he replied giving her a half smile.

She looked at him and saw the pinched look around his eyes and knew it was anything but fine but didn't question him. "There's coffee and I've made biscuits with sausage and gravy for breakfast. Would you like me to fix you an egg too?"

"No, that's more than enough. You are too kind to me, and I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you and Jasper for all you have done." He moved to the coffee pot and tried to steady his shaking hand to pour a cup.

"John, there's nothing to repay so quit worrying about it. It is a pleasure to have you here for the company and for the help you will be giving us. It nice to have a young man around, it makes us feel young too. Now sit down and eat and then we'll go into town. It shouldn't take us long to get what you need, and you and Jasper can have the afternoon together."

"That sounds good. Where is Jasper?" he asked looking around the room.

"Jasper has his routine; he's gone out to talk to the trees and I know it sounds crazy, but they seem to like it."

"Not crazy at all," John shrugged. He accepted a plate with biscuits, sausage and gravy and couldn't help his mouth watering with the smell. He split open a biscuit and placed the sausage inside to take a large bite, savoring the flavors. He sipped his coffee to wash it down and took another bite, sighing happily. He could get used to this and shook his head to throw the thoughts away. He had to be careful because he knew this couldn't last. His memory was trying to come back and whatever it held he was going to have to accept it. The only thing he was going to be sure of was that Bessie and Jasper were not hurt.

John drove Bessie's car as she sat beside him giving him directions to town and to the department store. He found a parking spot and got out, waiting on her to join him. They walked toward the front doors but faltered in his steps when he saw a black, four door Chevy sitting in a parking space. He looked at the car for a moment and frowned when a black car sprang into his mind.

"John, are you okay?" Bessie asked when she realized he wasn't beside her and turned to see him looking at the car.

"Yeah, I'm fine," John mumbled stepping back and turning to head for her.

They went on toward the doors and John got a cart and followed Bessie into the store. She walked down the aisles and randomly picked items to place in it. She talked to John about little things and showed him where the men's clothes were so he could get some socks and briefs and then took him to the shoe department.

John walked slowly down the aisle looking at the boots before taking two styles his size and tried them on. He walked around deciding which pair he liked the best and looked to Bessie.

"Do either of these look like what I was wearing when you found me?" he asked looking down at the different boots on each foot.

"Well, you only had one on at the time and if memory serves me right…The one on the left is the closest."

"Good that was what I was leaning toward." John sat down and pulled the boots off and put back on the sneakers. He put the box in the cart, satisfied with the choice and pushed the cart through the store for Bessie to finish her shopping. As they waited to checkout, John grabbed a bag of peanut M&Ms and put on the conveyer belt along with the other things. It irked him that he had no money to help pay for these things, but he was going to help on the farm for free to pay them back.

"We need to make a stop at an auto parts place before heading back," John told her as he loaded the bags into the trunk of the car.

"Alright, there's one a few miles away we can stop at. I was going to make apple pie for dessert tonight, does that sound okay?"

"It sounds better than okay," he assured her already looking forward to it.

Bessie waited in the car as John went into the parts place to get what he needed to fix the truck and tractor. He was back out in no time with bags in hand and got behind the wheel to drive them home. He was going to get the truck going first and then worry about the tractor.

Bessie had him park at the barn so they could take in the food she bought for him to have in the studio. It was mainly some basics like coffee, milk, bread, eggs, peanut butter, salt, pepper, cans of soup, crackers and he had added a six pack of beer. Once they had that done and the other things taken in the house, John changed into his boots and took the parts to the barn to work on the truck.

It wasn't long before Jasper joined him and watched him work, quickly and with expertise on the engine. After an hour, he had Jasper crank it and it purred smoothly. John smiled widely, pleased he knew he could work under the hood of vehicles. This was an unconscious response for him and not one he had to try to remember and he hoped more of these would come back and help him fill in the blanks of his life. He didn't feel like a bad man, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe there were things in his past that would prove him to be someone who was evil.

Jasper had John drive the truck to the edge of the field and showed him what to pick and what wasn't good. He worked until Bessie ran the bell for lunch and they strolled back to the house. John stopped at the studio to wash up before joining them in the kitchen for the meal. It was filling and delicious.

That afternoon when John had gathered the last picking for the crops in the field, Jasper had him drive into town and they visited restaurants and stores to sell the produce. When the truck bed was empty, they headed back home. John headed to the studio to shower and clean up feeling good with what they had accomplished. His head hurt a little but nothing some Tylenol wouldn't take care of. Manual labor gave him an appetite and he couldn't wait to see what Bessie made for dinner and to have a huge slice of her apple pie.

Bessie was taking up fried chicken when John joined them in the kitchen. The aroma of the cooked food had him salivating like a dog. He grabbed the plates and silverware to set the table for her and fixed the drinks.

She smiled at him as she began to sit the bowls and platters on the table. His face was kissed by the sun and he looked much healthier than when they left the hospital. Bessie hadn't heard him mention anything about his memory and wondered if it was slowly coming back. She could tell he was troubled about something but didn't question it.

"Man Bessie, I don't know where to start," John beamed as he looked at the food on the table. "You have outdone yourself.

"Why thank you John. We're enjoying the last of the fresh crops from the field. I have already canned and froze what we will eat off during the winter months. Now that fall is here about all we have left are the potatoes and pumpkins."

"That's right, when John gets the tractor running right, we'll start harvesting those. The pumpkins will be the last. I like to wait as close to Halloween as I can to get a better price for them."

"You two have made a wonderful life here," John said between bites of food. He had never tasted fried chicken as good as this was and with everything being fresh, the taste was so much better. Bessie had even made a loaf of bread that he slathered with butter before taking a huge bite.

Bessie got up when they were finished and pulled the apple pie from the oven. She sat it on a hot plate wile John removed the plates so they could have dessert.

"I think I've died and gone to Heaven," John sighed drawing in a deep breath of the warm aroma that filled the air. He waited for Bessie to slice it and set the plates on the table and allowed her to be seated before cutting off a bite and blowing on it. He hummed to himself and closed his eyes as he enjoyed the savory, taste of the homemade pie. "You are my hero and I have fallen in love."

"I am glad you are enjoying it. It is one of my favorite pies to make along with pecan. Which reminds me, the pecans should be ready to harvest aren't they Jasper?"

"I've been checking on them, a few more days. We gather them and put them in the barn to cure before storing them. Part I bag up to sell and the rest we keep for Bessie to cook with."

"This was the best meal I have eaten. When you're done, both of you go on in the family room and I'll clean the kitchen."

"No, no, I couldn't…"

"Please! After all the cooking you have done, it's only right I clean. I won't take no for an answer."

They finished the meal and John did the cleanup, shooing Jasper and Bessie into the family room to rest. He snuck another small slice of pie before finishing and then joined them to watch television. John was full, tired and knew he was going to turn in early tonight. Tomorrow he planned on fixing the tractor and see what Jasper wanted to do next. He was enjoying this simple, country life but in the back of his mind he wondered how long it would last.

He had a feeling there was someone out there looking for him, but he didn't know if it was friend or foe and this worried him.

**A/N: Dean is remembering his past and it is not an easy thing. So many things he doesn't understand yet and fears of who he could be are weighting him down. It won't be long before Sam finds him. Thank you for taking this journey with me. Reviews would make my day. NC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Sam dropped into the driver's seat of the Impala and looked at the time on his watch before crossing off another hospital on his list. He had been checking every hospital, clinic, morgue, vet's office within a hundred-mile radius of where Bobby's car had been found looking for his brother. It was getting late and he needed to eat and try to get some rest. He was still not sleeping more than a couple of hours or so a night as he continued his search. Nightmares and dreams made what little sleep he got restless and not beneficial to him.

Bobby was keeping in touch with Sam and letting him know if there were any leads coming in from his contacts and other hunters. He wanted to come help Sam search, but Sam told him he was okay, he could continue alone. It didn't take two people to check the places out. He knew Bobby was worried about Dean too, but thought it was better for him to be there in case any new leads came in that needed checking out from his end.

Knowing there was nothing else he would find here, Sam cranked the car and pulled from the hospital parking lot deciding to go ahead and find a motel for the night so he could call Bobby, review his list to see if he missed any places and to let his mind wind down so he could work on what he needed to do next.

There were several motels on the outskirts of town and he randomly chose one. After getting a room, he moved the car to a parking spot in front of the room. Sam was dragging as he grabbed his bags and fumbled on getting the door opened. Even though it was early, Sam sat his bags down and collapsed onto the bed face down and just gave into the need for sleep. He hugged the pillow to his chest and willed the bad dreams to stay at bay and let him sleep. He needed to be at the top of his game if he was going to figure this out and find his brother, no matter the ending.

_A car skidded across the road and flipped as it went over the hill and continued until it came to rest at the bottom_. Sam jerked in his sleep and moaned as he ran down the road trying to get to the car. The harder he ran, the further away the car seemed. He struggled against some un-seen force that seemed to be holding him back. His brother was down there, and he needed to get to him to help him.

"Dean!..." Sam sobbed out as his breath hitched and his chest constricted making it hard for him to get a breath. He choked and couldn't breathe when suddenly Sam cried out throwing himself from the bed to stagger into the wall as he sucked in the cold air of the room into his lungs. He let his body fall back onto the bed in a sitting position and leaned over with his elbows on his knees as he worked on getting his breathing and heart rate under control. He could still see the wrecked car in his mind but no matter what he did he couldn't get to it.

Sam buried his face into his hands and ran his fingers through his hair, jerking on it in anger. He didn't understand why he couldn't find his brother and the guilt was gnawing away at his conscious causing his stomach to churn and acid to bubble up in his throat burning it. He coughed as he fought to get to his feet and made it into the bathroom to spit into the commode as his throat tightened up. Sam heaved several times and spit again before turning on the cold water to cup some and rinse his mouth. He splashed water on his face before looking up into the mirror at the reflection that stared back at him. His eyes were bloodshot, shadowed and haunted looking. He let the droplets of water run down his face for a moment before grabbing a towel to dry it.

It was too early to stay up, so he went into the other room to pull the covers back from the bed, kicked off his boots and shucked his jeans before crawling into bed pulling the covers over his body. He sighed with his weariness and forced his eyes closed knowing he needed more sleep but didn't know if it would come.

After an hour of tossing and getting frustrated, Sam got up and took a shower hoping it would take some of the stress from his body and relieve the dull ache that had started behind his eyes. He stood under the water and let it beat on his head, shoulders and wash away the tears he couldn't hold in any longer. He braced himself with his hands pressed tightly against the wall of the shower, his shoulders shaking with his sobs. He let himself grieve and breakdown for a few minutes before coughing hard and wiping the water from his face. He couldn't give up. He owed it to Dean to keep looking until there was nothing left that he could do. Sam cut the water off and grabbed a towel to dry with and quickly ran it over his body and through his wet hair.

Once he was dry enough, Sam went into the other room to put on clothes before dropping into a seat at the table where his laptop bag sat. He pulled it out along with the list he made of hospitals, clinics, vets offices that he was checking out. Nearly all had been marked off and he looked at it, wondering, what he could have missed.

After his laptop booted up, Sam pulled up a search engine and typed a few key words before pressing enter. He rubbed his eyes and waited for it to compile before looking back up. He compared the new list to the one he had already created, running his finger down the list when suddenly he stopped. He looked at the screen for a moment frowning and down at his list. There was one place he had not checked because he didn't think Dean would have been taken there and that was a VA hospital about three hours away. It was a large one and the only one within a three-hundred-mile radius.

A surge of energy pulsed through Sam as he quickly shut down the laptop to pack up and moved around the room to gather his belongings stuffing them back into his duffle. He gave the room a brief glance to be sure he didn't miss anything before heading to the Impala. It was still dark outside, but he hoped by the time he found the VA hospital there would be someone he could talk to about Dean. If he had to, Sam wasn't above pulling his fake FBI credentials out and using them. He would come up with some cover story to get the information he needed.

His stomach growled its anger about not being fed and he found a fast food place that was opened and went through the drive thru for coffee and sandwich. He had not been taking care of himself since Dean had gone missing and it was beginning to show. Knowing it was too early to call Bobby, Sam decided to wait to see if the lead panned out before getting his hopes up. It was going to be hard enough on him if it turned into a false lead once again. If it did, he was back to square one and wasn't sure where to go from there.

**spn**

The new day was beginning to lighten as the sun rose above the horizon in front and slightly to the right of him. Sam squinted as the day lightened around him, wishing he had sunglasses and made a mental note to purchase some. He was going to need to stop for gas soon and hoped the station might have some. He began to watch the road signs looking for a suitable place to stop.

Sam knew he could probably drive straight through but wanted to give the hospital time for the morning shift to get settled before checking it out. He was anxious and tried to keep his mind from flitting from one thing to another. He snapped back from his thoughts when he saw a billboard advertising a 24-hour truck stop and knew it would work. He needed to walk around a bit to shake some of the tension from his body and he could use the restroom, grab a drink and power bar, and fill up the Impala. He checked his mirrors before signaling to switch lanes so he could exit off the interstate.

He pulled up to a pump and got out to fill the gas tank. Sam let his eyes wander around the area to check for any threats. Once a hunter, always a hunter. He couldn't turn it off no more than he could stop searching for his brother. He waited for the pump to click off and removed the nozzle, placing it back on the pump. He moved the car to a parking space in front of the truck stop and got out to go inside.

The place was starting to get busy with travelers, people stopping on their way to work, or others stopping for breakfast. He saw the sign for the restrooms and headed that way wanting to get that out of the way first. When he came back out, he looked toward the restaurant and drew in the smells that drifted his way. He looked down at his watch and toward the door thinking he should eat a meal to keep his energy up for what lay ahead.

Giving in, he went into the section that was the restaurant and took a seat at the end of the bar so he could see the entrance and people coming and going. He picked up a menu and looked it over as he nodded to the waitress coffee was fine. She filled his cup and moved on down to do the same to others.

"What can I get you hon?" she asked coming back his way.

"Can I get a short stack, couple of scrambled eggs and…Bacon please," he ordered wanting to feel close to his brother in some way. He waited for his food sipping on his coffee hoping the caffeine would boost his energy level. He knew getting some food in him would help too.

With his meal done, Sam hurried to the car wanting to get back on the road and get to the hospital. There had been time now for first shift to get set up and he was trying to decide the best place to start in the hospital. Traffic was light and he made good time to the hospital. Sam found a parking spot in the visitor's parking lot and made sure he had his FBI badge if he needed it, but he hoped he wouldn't.

Sam walked into the main entrance of the hospital and looked around for Admissions. He followed the signs and drew in a breath before stepping into an office.

"May I help you?" an older, motherly looking woman asked from behind a desk.

"I hope so. I am trying to get some information on a possible patient that might have come through here on September 27 or 28th."

"I'm sorry, we can't give out information on patients."

"I'm looking for my brother," Sam continued giving his best puppy dog expression. "He was in a car accident and wasn't at the vehicle when it was found. Ma'am, I've been looking at every hospital, clinic, and wherever else I could think of trying to find him since then. He never came home, or has he contacted me. I know he was injured because we found blood and his wallet inside the wrecked car. Please, he could be laying in a hospital bed unconscious and no one knows who he is," Sam pleaded not able to stop the tears welding up in his eyes. "My next stop is the morgue, because I don't even know if he is alive. I have been to so many morgues in the past few weeks with one thought, _'Don't let me find my brother lying on a cold metal tray_.' I think I'm going crazy with worry and stress and if you could help me in some way…" Sam's voice cracked, and he couldn't go on. He looked away and brushed the tears from his cheek as he cleared his throat.

The older woman looked at him and saw how sincere and grief stricken he seemed and knew he wasn't lying. She could feel and see the love he had for his brother and decided she had to help him. She began to type on the keyboard as she looked at the screen. "What was his name?"

"Dean, Dean Winchester," Sam said breathlessly as he wiped his face.

"I don't show anyone by that name being admitted here. There was a young, white, male, approximately twenty-seven, twenty-eight, possible traffic accident, head injury, concussion. It notes here in the chart he had memory loss from his head injury and was given the name of John Doe."

"John Doe, is he still here?" Sam asked frantically as panic began to set in. Memory loss would explain why he hadn't called, but that meant he still didn't know who he was. If he had gotten it back, Sam knew he would have called him or Bobby.

"No, he was discharged...Mmmm…Four days later," she explained looking up into Sam's hopeful face.

"But if he had no memory…Where would he go? You wouldn't just let him leave, would you? That's patient endangerment…" he started as his voice started getting hard and angry.

"Of course not, he was released into the care of a Jasper Hooper."

"Can I get his address? Maybe he's still there or this Hooper guy knows where he is."

"I can give you the town he lives in." She pulled a pad out and wrote down the information for him feeling she wasn't breaking the rules since she wasn't giving his address.

Sam reached for the paper with a shaky hand and handled like it was made of gold. He looked up with so much hope in his eyes and gratefulness, but his throat tightened, and he couldn't speak.

"I hope you find your brother young man," she told him giving him a sad smile.

"Thanks," Sam finally managed to get out before controlling the need to run out the door and walked at a fast clip until he was out of the hospital and broke into a jog. He threw himself into the Impala and found the atlas so he could find where Jasper Hooper lived. His breathing and heart rate sped up when he saw he was only three hours away from possibly finding his brother.

Sam cranked the Impala and listen to her roar to life, sounding strong and urgent. It was like she knew her true owner was near and they were going to find him. He swore sometimes the Impala acted up when Dean wasn't around like she missed him. He pulled from the parking lot and headed for the main road to head west. He tried to keep his excitement pushed down for fear it would lead to another dead end and he didn't know if he could take that again.

**spn**

John had to run back into town for an additional part for the tractor and decided to stop and grab a milk shake before leaving. He was sitting at a sidewalk table drinking it and people watching. He had a feeling this was something he was good at, judging people and figuring out what made them tick. John looked across the street and froze as his eyes widened in shock and fright. Very carefully, he got up backing into the shadows of the building and watched the tall man from his dreams chatting with a deputy. He saw a flash of a badge that made his breath catch in his throat.

When he was finally able to shake his paralysis, John hurried down the street to Bessie's car. He had to get back and let them know he was leaving. He owed them that much. John could not bring his problems down on them after all they had done for him. He needed to disappear before the FBI found him. John threw himself into Bessie's car and headed back to the farm. Once he was clear of the town limits, he floored it and raced toward his destination.

John pulled the car into the garage and rushed inside the house looking for Jasper and Bessie.

"Jasper, I need to leave," John blurred out when he found them in the family room.

"What's going on John?" Jasper asked getting up to face him. He saw the anxiety and fear on his face and wondered what happened.

"I didn't tell you, but some memories came back, and I didn't like what they were. I think I've done some bad things and the FBI is after me. I can't stay here and get you involved in my problems. I'll grab my pack and head through the woods to the road on the other side. I'll try to get a ride away from here."

"Are you sure John? Maybe it's not what you think," Bessie offered not liking his agitated state. She tried to take his hands, but he pulled away.

"I can't take that chance. I'm sorry, I've got to leave now." John didn't think he deserved Bessie's touch and stepped back from her. His chest was tightening, and his stomach was churning with anxiety and stress.

"Wait John," Jasper told him. He headed down the hallway and was gone five minutes before coming back to join them. He pressed some money into his hand, holding it tightly. "Maybe this will help you son."

John looked down and saw the folded bills. "I couldn't Jasper." He tried to push the money back into his hands, but Jasper wouldn't have it.

"I insist. We'll try to detain him so you can get away."

"Please don't put yourselves in harm's way for me, please," John begged.

"Go now John, but call us when you can," Bessie said pushing a paper with their phone number into his hand. She wrapped him in a hug feeling his strong arms wrap around her. She couldn't stop the tears from dripping down her face as John gave her a brief smile before shaking Jasper's hand and hurrying from the house to the studio.

**spn**

Sam pulled up to the farmhouse and took it all in. He got out and went to the front door to ring the bell. He could hear movement inside and after a few moments, the door was opened by an older man.

"Hello, may I help you?" he asked looking the tall, young man over.

"Hi, my name is Sam and I'm looking for my brother. He was in a car accident. I've been looking for him since he didn't make it home and the VA hospital said a John Doe was released into your care. I'm hoping that he might be Dean."

"Brother? Can you describe him?" Jasper asked in surprise.

"This is us a few years ago," Sam replied pulling a photo from his pocket and showing them a picture of him and Dean leaning against the Impala.

"Oh my, John thinks you're FBI and he's done something bad. He thinks you came to arrest him."

"Is he here? I need to see him!" Sam exclaimed as his pulse started to race.

"He's packing to leave. He's in the studio apartment attached to the barn. He's going through the woods to the road on the other side and try to hitch a ride to get away."

Sam didn't take time to thank him before he ran from the porch and around the house. He headed for the barn and the studio when movement caught him attention. He just caught a glimpse of his brother disappearing into the trees that bordered the yard and changed his course picking up speed as he ran after him, his adrenaline kicking in wanting to get to his brother.

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**A/N: Sam has found him at last. Can he convince him who he is? Thank you to all who have taken this journey with me. A few more chapters to go and we will be to the end. I do like reviews. NC**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Happy Veteran's Day to those who are veterans like I am. Thank you for your service.**

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**I am posting this chapter early since several readers wanted to see the reunion. I hope you like it and I did it justice. I do like to know your thoughts; reviews would be awesome. Only two chapters left and so close to 100 reviews. Please help me make it by leaving one. Enjoy….NC**

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**Chapter 9**

John threw open the studio door and ran for the bedroom. He grabbed the pack from the closet and went to the dresser to start throwing clothes into it. He hurried into the bathroom to scoop up his toothbrush, paste and shampoo and drop them the duffle. He paused for a moment to look around the place wishing he didn't have to leave but knew he couldn't stay. He hurried out the door and around the barn, running toward the forest and slipped between the trees. He never saw his brother rounding the corner and seeing him.

"Dean…" Sam whispered under his breath and broke into a run, his adrenaline surging and his long legs pumping hard. He entered the trees and saw nothing. Sam headed deeper and stopped to listen for any noises that would be his brother. He heard twigs breaking ahead of him and dodged trees as he hurried that way. "Dean! Dean stop!" Sam yelled as loud as he could. He kept moving trying to hear as he looked for broken branches or disturbed soil. "It's Sam, Dean!" he called again and then thought differently. "John! Stop! I'm your brother! I know who you are," Sam screamed his voice going hoarse.

As soon as John was in the trees, he started moving in a zig zag path to hopefully throw off anyone following him. He didn't get far before hearing someone behind him. He could hear the crunch of leaves and limbs breaking and stopped for a moment hearing a voice calling for someone named _'Dean'_. He started again, the name not registering since he was in full flight mode. It didn't feel right to run like this, it wasn't him. This is not how he would do it. He broke into a small clearing and looked around trying to decide if he could ambush whoever was following him. He started across the opening and was heading into the trees on the other side when he heard the voice again, but this time what was said stopped him in his tracks.

Sam lost the sounds ahead of him but kept going in what he hoped was the right way. His feet tangled in some roots and he almost went down but caught himself on a smaller tree and broke loose, cussing his clumsiness. Sam saw the trees thinning ahead and hurried through the last of them skidding to a stop as he broke through. He saw his brother on the other side of the clearing at the tree line with his back to him. Sam was panting hard and trying to catch his breath as he eased forward not wanting to scare him. He could see the stiffness of his body and didn't think he was armed but wasn't taking any chances. If he didn't know who he was, he could be very dangerous.

"John, please," Sam wheezed pulling in another breath. "I've been looking for you since the accident." He watched closely as he moved closer. Not knowing what else to do, he kept talking to him in a calm, soothing voice. "Your name is not John, it's Dean, Dean Winchester. Your parents were John and Mary Winchester. You're my big brother. I'm Sam, please don't run away." Sam grabbed Dean as his legs started to buckle to send him to the ground. "I got you bro." He grabbed him around the waist and took his weight before he slumped to the ground. After a quick look around, he shuffled them to a fallen tree and eased Dean down on it and sat down beside him close, but not touching. Dean hadn't looked up at him yet and Sam laid a hand on his arm. "I know you lost your memory after the accident. I finally found the hospital where you were treated and learned what happened."

Dean finally raised his head and looked at Sam through tear filled eyes. "S'mmy…" he whispered as images of two boys growing up together invaded his mind. He saw himself walking into a hospital room and seeing his baby brother for the first time, of holding him and feeding him, his first steps, saying his name, being told by their Dad that he had to protect Sammy and keep him safe and so much more that it took his breath away. He winced with pain and brought a shaking hand up to rub his temple trying not to let it all overwhelm him.

"Yeah, Dean, I'm Sammy," he smiled not able to stop his own tears. He grabbed him and pulled him into a strong hug, feeling relief wash over him now that he had finally found his brother. They sat there on the fallen tree; words not needed. Sam finally pulled away and spoke, "Think you can make it back to the farm? We have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," Dean replied clearing his throat and wiping at his face. "Maybe you can fill in the gaps for me and convince me I'm not going nuts. Some things I saw…"

"I can do that. Come on bro, it'll be okay now that we're together again," Sam replied already knowing what Dean meant.

"Are you FBI? Because I saw you in my dreams holding up a badge."

Sam startled for a moment thinking this was worse than he thought, "It's complicated, but Dean, you've got to have an open mind about some things. They may seem weird and crazy but it's the truth."

The brothers made their way back through the woods until they stepped from the trees behind the barn. Dean led them to the studio and opened the door to let them in. Neither saw Jasper and Bessie watching out the kitchen window to see them come back.

"Thank goodness he found John," Bessie sighed with relief.

"Now maybe he can find out who he is," Jasper added.

"I need to do some cooking, both them boys need a good meal," she said moving to the fridge and looking inside.

"Let me help hon. That way it will go faster."

"Of course, dear, why don't you peel some potatoes for me."

**spn**

Sam looked around the small studio while Dean went to the fridge and got two beers out. He headed to the couch and took a seat waiting for Sam to do the same. Sam accepted the beer and sat down beside him. He took a long swallow to quench his thirst and to give himself a moment to gather his thoughts. He was hot and sweaty and wiped a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair back from his face.

"Before we get started, I need to call Bobby and let him know I found you," Sam said setting his beer down and getting out his cell. "We were both worried sick about you. He needs to call off the search for you."

An image of an older, scruffy looking man with a beard and baseball cap popped up in Dean's mind. He saw the sign for Singer Salvage Yard and the stacks of wrecked vehicles behind it. But he also saw flashes of fights, training, and a room full of books on all kinds of supernatural subjects and strange objects sitting among them.

"He has a salvage yard, right?"

"Yeah, we stay with him off and on, he's our adopted father and mentor."

"But there's more than that isn't there?" Dean questions getting flashes of Bobby casting what he thought was a spell.

"Yeah, let's take it slow so you don't get overwhelmed with it all."

"I better go tell Jasper and Bessie things are okay and I'm back. They're probably worried." Dean got up thinking the room was closing in on him and he needed a little air. "I'll be back." Dean almost ran for the door and once he was outside, paused to suck in some deep breaths. Once he got himself under control, he headed for the backdoor of their house.

"Jasper, Bessie, are you in here?" he called as he opened the door.

"We're here. Is everything alright?" Jasper asked studying Dean closely. He could see confusion and uncertainty on his face but didn't question it.

"Yeah, seems that guy is my brother and he's been looking for me all this time. I wasn't sure if you saw us come back or not and wanted to let you know I won't have to run after all."

"I'm so glad to hear that John, or I should say, Dean. I am fixing dinner so you two, come back in a couple of hours and eat with us," Bessie told him clasping his cold hand in her warm ones.

"You don't need to go…"

"Stop right there. I bet your brother hasn't had a good meal since you went missing. I know he was worried about you. Now go on and be with him. Maybe it will open up some more memories for you and you'll find out who you are."

"Thanks, I'm pretty sure he will love your cooking and you're probably right. We'll see you in a couple of hours." Dean gave her a warm smile of approval before heading back outside. He saw the fender of a black car sitting at the front of the house and moved around to see it. He sucked in a breath when he realized it was the car in his dreams. His father gave it to him on his sixteenth birthday. Dean walked to the car and ran a hand over the top before opening the driver's door. He sat down in the seat and sighed knowing how right it felt. "Hello Baby, did you miss me?" he asked rubbing a hand around the steering wheel and over the dash. As Dean got out, he glanced to the back corner of the shelf and in his mind, he saw two young boys carving their initials into the paneling. He could hear the older cautioning the younger to be careful and not cut himself. He looked to the driver's backdoor and saw a green army soldier still wedged there and wondered if the Legos were still in the dash. He took his time strolling back to the studio as he prepared himself for what was to come. He was going to learn if he was a bad person or not.

Sam speed dialed Bobby's number and waited as it began to ring.

"_Sam, any news?"_ Bobby greeted him not able to keep the tension out of his voice.

"I found him Bobby," Sam sighed. "He had a concussion from the wreck and lost his memory. That's why he never called us. A very nice couple who found him on the side of the road took him to a VA hospital for treatment. That's why I couldn't find anything out. I didn't think to check there."

"_I'm glad you found him son. How's his memory doing?"_

"I think it's coming back in bits and pieces. It's freaking him out because he doesn't remember being a hunter or about monsters. He wanted to know if I was FBI."

"_What did you tell him?"_

"Nothing yet. I want to kind of easing him into it, so I don't want to totally blow his mind. I'll be staying here with him until he's ready to leave."

"_Alright Sam, just take care of him and come home when you can. Don't try to rush it, it might make things worse."_

"I will Bobby, if there's any problems I'll let you know. Bye." Sam hung his cell up and looked up as Dean stepped back into the room. He still looked a little shell shocked and jumpy and hoped what he had to tell him didn't cause more problems. "You must have a lot of questions, where do you want to start?" Sam asked leaning back into the couch.

"Bessie is fixing dinner for us. We can't turn her down since she's going to all that trouble. You won't be disappointed either. She is one amazing cook."

"That's fine with me. It'll be nice to have something besides junk food and fast food."

"So, John is our Dad's name. That's why it seemed so familiar to me," Dean mumbled as he sat down. He sipped on his beer trying to decide what to ask about first. "What was I doing when I had the accident?"

"You went on a parts run for Bobby and you were picking up a couple of parts for your car to finish fixing her. The roads were flooding from the storm and we think you might have hydroplaned and went off into the ravine the car was found in. That's what the highway patrol thinks too."

"Something ran out in front of me and yeah, I hydroplaned on the wet road. Is my car a black classic? The one that's out front of the house?" Dean asked wanting to be sure.

"Yep, '67 Chevy Impala; your _Baby_. Dad gave it to you on your sixteenth birthday. Both of you were great mechanics and have kept it in mint condition. You were rebuilding her after the accident. Bobby finished up for you and it's sitting out front."

Dean looked toward the door as something else pushed to the front of his mind. "Dad's dead, isn't he?"

Sam hung his head for a moment as he gathered the strength to tell him. "Yeah, he saved your life. It happened several months ago."

Dean pursed his lips as he thought over the answer. "So, my real name is Dean Winchester?"

That's right. You were born in Lawrence, Kansas on January 24, 1979."

"Why am I seeing monsters in my dreams and killing them?" he asked looking up into Sam's eyes. "And digging up graves?"

"Remember me telling you to have an open mind?" Sam asked carefully. "We are hunters. We track down supernatural monsters that are killing humans and kill them. Most say we're the best out there. There is so much more out there in the dark than you ever dreamed of."

"And our father let us do this?"

"He's the one that trained us Dean. He was in the Marines and when he came back, he married our Mom, Mary Campbell. You were born and then I was born four years later. When I was six months old a demon came into my bedroom and he killed our Mom. This set Dad on a road of revenge, no matter the cost. When you were old enough, he started training you first. You were a natural at it. You tried to protect me as long as you could from finding out about the monsters, but I did. I have some things in the car that might help jog your memory. I'll be right back." Sam got up and headed outside to the Impala. He moved it down to the barn so it would be closer and out of the way. He pulled out the duffels and hurried back inside to find Dean still sitting on the couch deep in thought.

Once Sam was seated again, he opened the pack and pulled out a 9mm gun. He ejected the clip and bullet, so it wasn't loaded. "This is your favorite gun," he said handing it to Dean.

Dean accepted the weight of the gun in his hand and turned it over to look at it. There was something about it, the feel if the cool metal against his skin, the weight of it in his hand and how it seemed perfect for his grip.

"This is your first journal," Sam offered pulling books from both the bags. "Bobby gave this to you when you were like nine or ten. You wanted to have one like Dad so you could write things in it. You already knew about the supernatural by then. I got mine later in life. I've not read yours and you've not read mine. What is in there is private since some of it could be personal. I also brought Dad's journal for you to read and I think the more recent journal is in the bottom of your duffle, but maybe you should start with this one first. We keep records of our hunts, noting the creatures, how we dealt with them, how we found them, their abilities, that sort of thing. Maybe it'll be easier for you to read about them than me trying to explain it all. I can answer any questions you have if you like." Sam held out both journals to Dean who took them, holding them out in front of him.

Dean looked at the journals and knew they would explain a lot about himself, but he was afraid to read them because once he did there would be no going back. He finally laid their father's journal beside him and took his own gingerly in his hands. He ran a hand over the soft leather worn cover and saw his initials in the bottom right corner. This was a Christmas gift from Bobby a long time ago. He could see them at his house on a snowy Christmas morning opening gifts in front of a roaring fire. It was just the three of them and they seemed happy. He wasn't sure where their father was.

Dean drew in a slow breath as he turned to the first page and saw the journal entry in his own young handwriting. He relaxed into the couch and began to read the entry. He took it slow so he could absorb this part of his life that he couldn't remember. The journal was what he thought it would be. There were not entries for every day. It seemed more a entry for important things that happened in his life, things that seemed important to a ten year old.

By the tenth entry, Dean paused for a moment when he heard soft snores coming from beside him. He looked at Sam and saw his head was back against the back of the couch and he was asleep. He looked at Sam's tired face and figured he hadn't had much sleep since he went missing. He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over his body before turning back to the journal. The more he read the more pieces of the puzzle that was his life began to fit together. It shocked him to read on entry where he had to stitch their father up when he came back injured from a hunt. He was already getting a picture of how protective he was of his little brother and gave his sleeping form another glance.

Even thought this was from his youth, it still showed him a picture of who he was then and who he had grown up to be.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Sam didn't say anything as Dean chose his journal to begin reading first. He thought that would be his choice to see what he had written all those years ago too. He hoped it wasn't anything too horrible or too personal. He settled back on the couch and finished his beer. His whole body seemed to want to shut down now that he had found Dean. His eyes started to get heavy and he fought to keep them open but the relief of finding Dean and the rush wearing off had him dozing. His head tilted back, and his body relaxed as his breathing evened out.

He never felt Dean draping a blanket over him as he rolled his head slightly to the side. He fisted the blanket in his sleep, pulling it closer to his cool body. His mind was playing over finding his brother in the forest and learning he still had no memory of his life, well, bits and pieces had come back, but Dean was having a hard time sorting them. Sam twitched and mumbled in his sleep and was comforted by a familiar hand rubbing his arm and the soft hum of '_Hey Jude'_. He settled back down with a sigh, knowing he was safe, and his big brother was watching over him. He was finally able to rest for the first time since Dean went missing.

"Sammy, hey dude, wake up," Dean called to him as he gently shook his shoulder and stepped back. He did remember don't stand near a hunter when you wake one up unless you wanted decked.

Sam could hear the voice calling to him and jerked awake with hands curled into fists ready to fight until his focus cleared and he recognized Dean standing nearby.

"Easy there, tiger," Dean cautioned him when he saw his stance and held his hands up to show surrender. "It's time for dinner bro."

"Yeah, sorry, right," Sam grunted wearily as he cleared his throat and pushed himself up on the couch. He untangled the blanket from around his legs and stood up. "Need to use the bathroom."

"Through there," Dean pointed toward the partly closed bathroom door.

Sam was still feeling exhausted and his body heavy from the short nap he took. He closed the door behind him and relieved himself before turning on the cold water to splash it on his face hoping to wake himself up. Sam looked at the man staring back at him and wondered how Dean must have felt when he looked at his reflection and didn't know who he was, not even his own name. His eyes were blood shot and smudges of bruising were under them. He hadn't shaved in four or five days; he didn't even remember now, so his jaw was covered in the beginnings of a beard. If it wasn't about being polite, Sam would have declined the meal and just slept, but he knew he needed to be there for Dean. He washed his hands and dried his face and hands before joining Dean again. Dean led them across the yard to the backdoor and into the house without knocking. Sam knew this was a sign of friendship between the couple and his brother and he was thankful they had befriended Dean. His mouth stared to water as soon as he breathed in the enticing aroma of food. The smell was amazing, and his stomach growled loudly wanting to be fed.

"Sounds like you've not been eating regularly," Dean commented when he heard it, arching an eyebrow at his brother. "Just wait 'til you taste Bessie's cooking; you'll be in love."

"I can't wait," Sam said. His eagerness showing on his face as he licked his lips.

"Joh…Dean, Sam, come on in. We're putting it on the table now. Why don't you take a seat," Jasper told them when he looked up and saw them standing in the doorway.

"You've not been formally introduced, Jasper, Bessie, this is Sam, my little brother," Dean introduced them a hint of joy and relief in his voice. "Sammy, Jasper and Bessie found me on the side of the road and saved my life. They took me in, gave me a place to stay while I tried to remember who I am."

"Nice to meet you Sam," Jasper said.

"So glad you found your brother Sam," Bessie added taking his hands in hers and squeezing them.

"Thank you both for all you have done for Dean. I am glad he found someone as kind and caring as you to help him. I don't know how I can ever repay you," Sam told them fighting back the tears that brimmed his eyes.

"We have enjoyed having your brother staying with us. He's a joy to have around," Bessie said.

Sam looked at Dean with a slightly puzzled expression for a moment, not sure he would call him a joy to be around, but he had to remember Dean was pretty much a clean slate when they invited him to stay here. He didn't have the harshness and hardness of the hunter he was yet. Maybe some of that will change as his memories returned and he becomes Dean Winchester again.

"Anything I can do?" Dean asked motioning Sam to a seat at the table.

"Nope, go ahead and sit down," Jasper told him.

"I hope you're hungry," Bessie said sitting a sliced ham in the middle of the table. There were already bowls with mashed potatoes, fried squash, green beans, salad, slices of homemade bread, and of course pecan pie for dessert.

"It all looks and smells amazing," Sam said politely trying to control the need to start grabbing food and devouring it. He hid his hands so no one would see them shaking slightly.

"Believe me, it is," Dean told him taking the ham platter from Jasper and serving himself before passing it on to Sam.

They all filled their plates and began to eat. After only a few bites of the food, Sam had to comment. "This is the best food I've had in a long time. You are a fabulous cook."

"Told you," Dean smirked as he cut a bite of ham.

"Thank you, Sam, that is so kind of you to say," Bessie replied happily. "I've always loved to cook and to have someone to cook for besides Jasper and myself is a treat. Both you boys need some good homecooked meals to put a little meat on your bones."

"Wait until you taste her pies," Dean offered arching his eyebrows and smiling.

"I'm sure she had you there since pie is your favorite food item," Sam chuckled. "You'd have it every meal if I let you."

"At least I got that right," Dean shrugged seeming right at home with them.

They continued the meal with light conversation and Sam had two helpings of everything and thought he was going to burst as he wiped his mouth and pushed his plate away. He knew he ate too much but couldn't stop himself. It was just too good.

"Sammy and me will clean the kitchen Bessie. You two go on in the family room and relax," Dean told them when he saw everyone was done.

"Yes, you did all this cooking, it's only right we clean up," Sam agreed.

"Bessie, I gotta say, I don't know which one is better the apple or pecan pie. I can see why you won all those blue ribbons," Dean praised her as he finished the last bite of his pie.

"I was taught by the best, my grandmother and mother who learned from their moms."

"My hat's off to all of you. Start clearing the table Sammy and I'll pack up the leftovers," Dean instructed not realizing how easy _'Sammy'_ slipped off his tongue. He didn't even have to think about it; it just came naturally.

"Alright," Sam said getting up and taking the dishes to the kitchen sink getting a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach just hearing his name coming from his brother again.

"Rinse and put in the dishwasher," Dean told him as he got out plastic containers to store the remaining food.

"Oh, okay," Sam answered looking to the dishwasher by the sink and opened the door. He started rinsing the plates and placing them in the dishwasher. He wasn't sure he was doing it right since he didn't have any experience with dishwashers. Sam knew enough to put the smaller items on top and the others on the bottom with the few pots already there.

Dean emptied the bowls and sat them where Sam could reach them to put in the dishwasher. Bessie had already put the pots that could be cleaned in it and washed the others. It didn't take them long to finish in the kitchen and joined them in the family room.

They watched the news for the weather and then Dean excused them wanting to get back to his journal and since Sam could barely stay awake, wanted him to go to bed. There were broken memories coming back slowly but he still had many questions about it all. The brothers said their good nights and headed back to the studio.

"Go on and take the bed," Dean told Sam once they got inside. "You can hardly hold your eyes open and I'm thinking you need sleep."

"No, that's fine, I'll make do on the couch," Sam replied rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.

Dean looked Sam's tall frame up and down and then looked at the couch as he pursed his lips. "I don't think so. Really, go on, I'm going to be reading and I'm not sleepy." Memories came to him of a five-year-old standing in front of him rubbing his eyes and trying his hardest to stay awake.

"Okay," Sam sighed not having enough energy to argue with him. "We can talk tomorrow then. I can explain what you don't understand or have questions about. I know it all seems overwhelming, but you're strong and I know we can do this together. And Dean, you've been taking care of me my whole life since our Mom died; making sure I had what I needed even if you did without. Now it's my turn to take care of you."

"Alright, that sounds good and yeah I do have some questions, but I need to fix Jasper's tractor and help him finish his harvest first. You can help too. We don't have to be, anywhere do we?"

"No, I figured we'd head to Bobby's, but_ only_ when you are ready. You can take all the time you need." Sam was a little surprised with Dean wanting to stay here and help the couple, but he shouldn't have been. His brother helped those that needed it, whether he remembered who he was or not. He was letting Dean take the lead here and would do what he needed to get his memories back.

"Good, Jasper and Bessie have been too kind to me to leave them with work left unfinished. He needs to take care of his knee still and it's the least I can do to repay them."

"It's your call. We'll stay until you're ready to leave," Sam assured him. "I wouldn't mind some more of Bessie's cooking either. Oh, you know the bed is a queen and it's not like we haven't shared one before, so if you want to… Its fine. I'll leave room."

"Thanks Sammy," Dean said gratefully.

Sam shuffled to the bathroom first to brush his teeth and relieve himself before going to the bed. He kicked off his boots and pulled some sleep pants out to change into. Sam slid between the sheets and settled down with a sigh, being sure to leave room if Dean joined him. He hoped he wouldn't feel awkward about it since they had been doing it half of their lives. His stomach was full, his stress was almost gone, he could finally let himself relax and maybe get some needed rest.

Dean watched Sam's back as he disappeared into the bathroom and childhood memories filled his mind. It seemed those were the quickest to return to him. It seemed the older memories were not so confusing or hard to understand. This gave him hope that the other ones would start coming back too. He just hoped that he could handle them and what it would mean to his life. He still couldn't believe that he was what Sam called a hunter and that movie monsters were real, and they hunted and killed them. Once he heard Sam go to bed, he turned back to his journal for a moment before looking to the other one laying on the end table.

Not really sure why, Dean laid his aside and picked up his father's journal, stilling himself for what was inside of it. He opened it slowly and pulled out a couple of photos from the side pocket. One was of a man and woman that he was sure where his parents and the other was a family shot of them with two kids. He flipped it over to read the back_, John, Mary, Dean and Little Sammy, The Winchesters. _He sat them aside and fingered a metal pinned to the cover, remembering his Dad was in the Marines. Dean thought about that and knew that was how he knew how to train them. He turned to the first page to begin ready_, 'When to Missouri today and learned the truth…_'.

It was nearly two in the morning when Dean finally had read all he could absorb. He rubbed his tired eyes, knowing he needed to get some rest if he was going to work on the farm later that morning. His mind was filled with so much and more pieces of his life were coming back, but he couldn't take any more. Plus, he had some questions for Sam about a few things he wasn't sure about.

He got up and headed into the bathroom to do his routine before stepping out and looking at the bed where his brother slept. He hesitated at first, but after changing into some light sweats, Dean stepped to the empty side of the bed and slid under the covers. Sam was laying on his side, facing away from him, so there was plenty of room for him. He lay there listening to his brother's even breathing, not sure he could slow his racing mind. After ten minutes, he turned on his side and jerked slightly when a warm body pressed up against his back. He heard his brother's sigh of contentment as he settled back down. He knew he should mind their closeness, but he didn't. It felt right. There was an unbroken bond between them that he could feel deep down inside of him. He let his eyes close and allowed the darkness to fly him away into the clouds as he whispered to himself, I am Dean Winchester, I am a hunter, I help people, I am a good person...

Dean had not been asleep long when suddenly a book opened in his mind. He rolled his head and frowned as the pages became scenes from his life. He saw two kids huddled together in a small bed keeping each other warm. With each turn of the page another image filled his mind. One of an older boy comforting a younger who had been woke by a bad dream that quickly moved to another of the boy a little older whimpering until the older let him crawl in bed with him while a massive thunderstorm raged outside. He could feel the fever and trembling of the body he held close as he tended to his younger brother when he was sick. Then it suddenly changed.

Dean was standing by a hospital bed where his body lay, broken, with a breathing tube down his throat. He saw Sam sitting by his bed with one of his hands clasped between his brother's, pressing it to his forehead and could hear the soft sobs and see tears coursing down his cheeks. Dean leaned a little closer trying to catch the whispered words he was muttering_. 'Please, you can't leave me…'_ Sam cried. He started to reach out to him, but the images flipped causing him to teeter and he was looking into a hospital room where doctors and nurses were working quickly to try and save their father's life.

A moan escaped from between his lips and he jerked in his sleep and rolled his head in despair. A warm hand gently grasped his arm and squeezed, and words were mumbled into his ear_. 'I'm here bro, it's okay, I've got you.' _ This seemed to calm his tortured mind and Dean let himself sink back into the abyss.

His memories didn't want to let him rest. Another book opened and he saw a beautiful blonde that Sam had his arm around, holding her close to his side, the page turned, and he watched a woman dressed in white disappear into the floor as her two children clung to her. The fire was blazing around his brother before he could drag him from his apartment. A scarecrow comes to life and expects offerings. A ghost steps from a mirror. Dean trembles in his sleep and rolls his head shaking away the memories and pushing his mind to a calm, safe place by a lake where he sits on a dock and fishes. He can feel the presence of someone familiar beside him and let's his mind wind down and finally rest.

* * *

**A/N: So many memories are flooding back now, Dean is finally getting his life back. Thank you for coming along on this journey. One more chapter and we will be at the end of the road. I do like reviews, we are so close to 100, it would be great if that could happen. NC**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

It was still early as Sam roused and realized there was a warm body lying beside him. He opened his eyes enough to see the back of his brother's head and sighed happily before letting himself go back to sleep. This was the best and longest sleep he had gotten since Dean went missing. His closeness gave him peace of mind and a feeling of security. He knew they would be up soon enough, and he would see how Dean had been living since coming to stay with the Hoopers. It was a couple hours later that he was shook awake by his brother.

"Hey, wake up, the day starts early here," Dean said.

Sam groaned and tried to wake his body up. The old Dean was not a morning person and he guessed it was something new. He saw Dean was already dressed and was putting on his boots that looked new. Then he remembered there was one boot stuck on the driver's side of Bobby's car. He didn't really think about it, but Dean had walked all that way with only one boot. Sam didn't mention the bad dream Dean must have had during the night since he didn't know if he even remembered it.

"Bessie will have breakfast ready for us, so get your clothes on."

"I'm up," Sam grunted as he swung his legs off the bed and sat there for a moment before pushing up to head for the bathroom. He grabbed his jeans to put on and when he came back out, looked around for his boots. He found them pushed under the edge of the bed and grabbed them slipping them on. "I'm ready," Sam called to Dean who was waiting near the door.

"Good, we've got a lot to do today," Dean told him as he opened the door to head across the yard to the main house. "Hello," he called going in the back door.

"Hello, you timed it perfectly, I was just getting ready to make French toast," Bessie replied.

"What can I do?" Dean asked stepping into the kitchen and looking around.

"Be a dear and check the bacon, it is probably ready to be taken up."

"I can do that; help yourself to coffee Sammy," Dean said. He began to take up the bacon, putting it on a paper towel to drain before transferring it to a plate.

Sam took one of the cups sitting at the coffee pot and poured a cup. He used the creamer and sugar sitting beside it and doctored it to his liking before moving to the table out of the way. He watched with interest as Dean helped in the kitchen, teasing Bessie and seeming right at home here. This was the most relaxed he had seen his brother in a very long time, if ever. He guessed not having the end of the world hanging over his head or some monster to track down and kill made a difference in his life. He wondered if this easy going, laid back brother would still be there when all his memories returned, and he knew about their past. Sam was happy Dean was able to experience this kind of life, to see what it felt like. He knew his brother deserved this and wished it could last but knew it wouldn't.

"Good morning boys, I hope you slept well," Jasper greeted them joyfully. "I see Bessie has breakfast about ready."

"Morning Jasper," Dean replied.

"Good morning sir," Sam greeted him feeling a little out of place with the three of them. He felt like an outsider watching their lives play out in front of him. He almost regretted interrupting what Dean had here. It was a piece of normal that he had never had before since the night of the fire that changed their lives forever. The past few weeks must have been foreign to him to have never experienced something like this before. He envied him slightly but knew it couldn't last. He had tried to have normal when he went off to college and only succeeded in getting the love of his life killed. He honestly didn't know if normal would ever be in the cards for them and he had come to terms with that. As long as he had his brother by his side, he could make it.

"I'm going to get your tractor running, and we can start getting the potatoes up if you like or clear the field so it can be plowed. I already talked to Sammy and we're staying until everything that needs to be done is done. You two have been too good to me to leave you with work to be done."

"You don't have to stay here Dean; we can get someone from town to help out."

"Absolutely not, I said I would help, and I keep my word. Sammy, do you have any money? I need to repay Bessie for what she's bought me."

"Yeah, I've got a little cash and can get more if you need it," Sam replied.

"Here we go," Bessie said. She sat a plate of French toast on the table and pulled a bowl of cutup fruit from the fridge. "Dean, I told you that wasn't necessary, I'm glad we could help."

"We'll discuss that later, let's eat while it's hot," Jasper insisted taking a piece of toast and passing it to Sam.

"This looks delicious Bessie," Sam praised her taking some toast and passing it on.

"Oh, it is," Dean beamed with pride. "She is one fantastic cook."

"Go on with you," Bessie said, patting Dean's arm lovingly.

"Are you handy on a car engine too Sam?" Jasper asked him.

"No, afraid not," Sam chuckled. "Dean got all that knowledge. He tries to show me, but I'm not very good at it. He keeps me away from an engine for a good reason."

"Sammy's more a nerd," Dean smirked seeing Sam give him what he knew as a bitch look. He chuckled realizing this was a memory coming back and he had seen that look many times in the past.

"Am not," Sam mumbled. "I like research and reading."

"And there's nothing wrong with that either," Jasper added.

Sam cut another piece of toast, dipped it in syrup and popped it in his mouth relishing the delicious taste of it. "This melts in your mouth, I can see why Dean wants to stay Bessie. Your cooking is amazing."

"Good thing we're going to be working to burn off the calories," Dean said.

"If we eat like this at every meal, I may have to get bigger pants," Sam sighed with contentment.

"Nonsense, both of you could use a few extra pounds on your skinny bodies," Bessie commented. "The girls have got to have something to hold on to."

"Don't listen to my wife, she thinks everyone is too skinny," Jasper laughed.

"Well, they usually are," Bessie insisted.

"Finish up Sammy, we've got work to do," Dean told him snagging another piece of toast and bacon.

"Me? You're the one taking seconds."

"I'm a growing boy," Dean noted taking a big bite and smiling as he chewed and smacked his mouth.

"Excuse my brother, sometimes he has no manners," Sam apologized as he rolled his eyes with his antics. This was his Dean coming back and he liked it.

They finished their meal and the brothers headed for the barn to work on the tractor. Dean did the work and had Sam be his gofer, handing him tools, getting waters for them and cleaning up after him. By midmorning, Dean had the tractor running and pulled it from the barn. Jasper stood to the side and motioned Dean to the attachment that they would use to plow up the potatoes. Sam helped get it hooked to the tractor and went to get the truck to take baskets to the field to put the freshly dug potatoes in.

With Jasper supervising, Dean carefully plowed one row of potatoes and stopped to help Sam gather them into the baskets. They would be taken back to the barn and spread out to dry. Part would be stored for the winter months and part would be taken into town to be sold.

Dean instructed Sam about being sure to get all the dirt off the potatoes and to separate the small ones from the larger ones. Sam was impressed with his knowledge wondering if Jasper had told him what to do. He followed his brother's directions and they finished one row before Jasper told them it was time for lunch, and they needed a break. Sam found picking up potatoes was a back breaking job and was going to find some Tylenol when they stopped by the studio to wash up before going to the house for lunch. Sam didn't think he would be hungry after a big breakfast, but he was ready to eat and eager to see what Bessie had made.

Bessie had thick, meaty sandwiches and homemade potato salad ready, with fresh squeezed lemonade. She had a peach pie for dessert and refused to let Dean start with that. Dean cautioned Sam to not overeat since they still had three rows of potatoes and two rows of sweet potatoes to take up. He told him the same thing when Dean went for seconds. He had a few choice words for him but mumbled them under his breath where only Sam could hear. Sam blinked away the tears because Dean was sounding and acting like he should, and he hoped this was a turning point for him. He thought maybe reading the journals had helped him with remembering his life. They finished their meal and headed back out to get back to work. Jasper gave them both ballcaps to wear for protection from the sun since it was a warm fall day.

**spn**

Sam was dragging by the time Jasper called it quits for the day. They had gotten all the regular potatoes up, cleaned, sorted and spread out in the barn to dry. He was sore and dirty from head to toe but had a sense of pride for what he had accomplished. This was nothing like a hunt but at least there was no fighting involved. They were going to get showers and change clothes before going to the house for dinner. Sam was surprised that Dean let him have the shower first since he always complained that he took too long. He didn't object and was going to speed his shower up this time so Dean could get his.

Dean was pleased with what they had gotten done today and was glad Sam agreed to help. He knew this wasn't their usual job, but it was something he needed to do. He figured they could have the remaining crops harvested, the fields plowed for the winter, and what Jasper wanted taken into town and sold finished in about a week.

His memories were returning, slowly and in no order, but they were returning. He still had some questions for his brother but was in no hurry to rush things. He would do what Jasper suggested and let them come on their own and not worry about it. He rummaged in the bag Sam had brought for him that had his clothes in it and paused when his hand felt something down in the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out to find another journal and opened it slowly. It was his by the handwriting that had gotten stronger and neater. He flipped through it and saw it was only two-thirds full and realized this was a recent one. He looked at it as his chest tightened, wondering if he was ready to learn about what this would tell him. Dean finally decided it could wait. He had his brother for firsthand knowledge and was going to go with that for now. He kind of liked what he had here and wanted to enjoy a few more days of it before walking back into their lives. He already knew that it was dangerous and bloody and unbelievable, but it was his life and that was something he couldn't change.

Fate had thrown a monkey wrench into his life, but he would deal with it one day at a time and let his brother lead him back to the life they had. Maybe it was good this had happened, since it let him see his world with more clarity and let him understand things better. Life would go on and he planned on being better than he was before. He would face whatever the Fates sent his way with his brother by his side like it should be.

**The End**


End file.
